


(this is home)

by Lillian_nator



Series: (this is home) [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Apocalypse, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Gen, Idk I read this story that I really liked, dont ship real people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25581172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillian_nator/pseuds/Lillian_nator
Summary: I read this story that really made me feel things I wasn't ready to. It was a one shot. I didn't want it to be. SO I made it more I guess.All credit for the story goes to free_cookiesx they wrote the original story "(this was home)" that I'm basing this off of.Tommy finally found the thing that he has been missing for the past 7 months. A home. People. A family. Please, just let everything be okay.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Dave | Technoblade, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot, Dave | Technoblade & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: (this is home) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854016
Comments: 436
Kudos: 1745





	1. Authors Note.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [free_cookiesx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/free_cookiesx/gifts).
  * Inspired by [(this was home)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25451479) by [free_cookiesx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/free_cookiesx/pseuds/free_cookiesx). 



SO, I was inspired by this fic by free_cookiesx.  
This is the one: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25451479  
I'll have the first Chapter up by tonight or tomorrow. Very Regular Updates.  
Thank you for reading, Kind Sir/Lady. 

Uh this is just essentially a filler chapter.  
If free_cookiesx wants me to take this down I will.  
ABSOLUTELY, I did kind of use your story after all, so please, if you don't want me to post this, IDK shoot me a message or comment or something. Thank you! Have a good day!


	2. Tommy, You Are Safe.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy. This _is_ home. Sure, it was a new place, in an unfamiliar city, but these people were familiar, and he feels safe in his brother's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the story by free_cookiesx. first.

This is Home.  
Chapter One: Tommy, You Are Safe. 

**You Are Safe.**

It was hard for Tommy to accept it, really. It wasn’t hard to accept that the apocalypse had come, or that his parents had died; it was hard to accept that he had a home again. 

It had been so long since he had seen anyone. It had been seven months. Ha. The blonde boy used to be unable to go minutes without someone to talk to. He went months.

**You Are Safe.**

What’s even worse is trying to get used to talking to people again. Even people he was seemingly familiar with. These were people he would talk to daily before It happened. Before It went down. Now, he is seemingly unable to get back into the swing of things. Sure, he wants to talk to Wilbur, to Phil, to Techno, to his brothers, to his only family, to the only people he had seen for seven months; his brain was screaming, clawing at Tommy for social interaction. But yet, he still found it strange. 

Sure, he chats with Wil, while Phil cares for his wounds. And yeah, he boasts to Techno about the monsters he has slain, but it still feels odd. He yearns for things to go back to normal, not for the apocalypse to stop, not for all of his family to return, sure he misses his parents a ton, but he just wants to talk to his friends again. 

**You Are Safe.**

He guesses it doesn’t help that he has trouble physically talking either. It’s been days since he found shelter with his friends. So, it’s only been a few days since he has tried to talk. Well, Tommy ponders, it’s the first time in months he’s needed to talk. He won’t admit it, but he hasn’t talked in so long because he was scared of getting found. He picked up sign language as a way to tranquilize his horrible habit of talking to himself. 

So when Techno asks him, if he thinks his voice is up to talking again, he shakes his head out of reflect, and catches a few worried gazes from his friends. And then, again two days later by Phil, well, he says no then too. 

**You Are Safe.**

One morning is particularly worrying for Tommy, he wakes up, and surrounded by him is nothing. No Wilbur curled into his side, no Techno watching the sunrise, and no Phil sitting in the corner waiting for the other two to wake up. He shot up, eyes darting around the room, hands trembling. If he didn’t hear the hushed voices outside his room, he would’ve started running around the whole building in search of the other three. Relief flooded his body, and soon after, curiosity, what did they need to speak of so urgently that they had to do it before Tommy woke up, and why didn’t they trust him enough to hear it? 

“I’m worried about him guys.” Phil Spoke in a hushed tone. 

“Me too.” Techno added, “I’ve never seen him so quiet in his life.”

“I mean, he must be scared. He was out there all alone for 8 months.” Wilbur whispered, to match the other two’s tones. 

Tommy was confused, in the least. Why were his friends concerned? He didn’t think he had shown signs of weakness. 

**You Are Safe.**

Not to mention, Wilbur had said 8 months. Had he counted wrong? He had counted 7 months. The first was a blur, he wouldn’t be surprised if he had miscounted. The first month was the roughest, he had just lost his parents, and he had to learn how to find and cook food, what plants were safe, how to stab someone, how to protect himself, how to make drinking water safe, how to murder. He was lost the first month, he must have miscounted. 

**You Are Safe.**

“He’s just a kid guys. All alone, what did he have to do, what did he have to learn?” Techno sighed. 

Wilbur commented, “I mean, we are just kids Tech.”

“But, the difference is, you weren’t alone.” Phil argued, “Not to mention, you two have been living on your own for several years, he hasn’t graduated yet. He never got to graduate.”

“So he’s scared?” Techno asked. 

Wilbur sighed, fixed his glasses, and said “No, and I think that’s the problem.”

What’s the problem with being brave, he thought. That’s how he survived out there, head first, and thinking second. You have to run out there, not walk, and if there is anything that everyone alive in the apocalypse should know, it’s that there is no room for fear. Fear clouds judgement, people who fear, are people who die. 

**You Are Safe.**

Deep down inside Tommy feared for his life. He longed for things to go back to the way they were. He longed for his friends to give him a hug and tell him that it was going to be okay, that he was going to live and that his life wouldn’t be the shit fest that it is right now. But that was deep down, he repressed these feelings to keep level headed. He didn’t want to know what would happen if these feelings were brought to life. Nothing good, that’s for sure.

**You Are Safe.**

He gets up, slowly, not really moving much in the past 5 days. It’s been 5 days since he’s been here, since he’s been safe. He got up once or twice in those 5 days, but Phil was insistent on the fact that Tommy needed to rest; and boy, Tommy was not going to waste his time arguing with Phil. 

“Um, Guys?”

Three pairs of eyes look at him in shock, he flinches. But, he feels the need to say this, even if his voice is scratchy and strained. He forgets how to talk for a moment. 

“Can you guys just confront me?” Tommy stated, annoyed. “You don’t have to talk about me behind my back, I’m not a child.”

Wilbur looks at him sadly, and Techno looks at him almost mad, and he’s not sure he likes either. He looks at Phil, and on his face, concern is shown and laced through his expression. He doesn’t like that either. 

“Um… That’s the thing Tom. You are a child.”

“No! Wil, how many times have I told you I am a - “

**You Are Safe.**

“You are a 16 year old, Thomas. Techno Started, “Don’t argue with us on this please. You are not even a legal adult. And you have been out there alone for 8 months. And it clearly has not been a walk in the park and you come back, and look at you, listen to yourself Tommy. You’re different, and I understand that it’s hard not to change, especially when your life changes as much as it has, but listen to me when I say: You. Deserve. To. Be. A Child.”

He added, “You deserve to be held, and to be comforted, and you deserve to be able to cry, because we all have. We all have but you. And we are adults, Tommy, we should be taking care of you, and you won’t let us. Please Talk to us Tommy. Why won’t you talk to us?”

Tommy, Phil and Wilbur were all respectively speechless. Tommy could see tears pricking at Techno’s eyes. It filled Tommy with joy to see how much the older boy cared. Techno had always been the one to show the least amount of emotion out of the four boys, always keeping a cool head, and acting too cool for Tommy. It also pained Tommy to see that he hurt Techno. This was probably the last straw. He looked around and saw tears threatening to fall out of all 3 pairs of eyes, and felt tears swell in his as well. 

**You Are Safe.**

He Was Safe. Which is why Tommy felt as though this was a good time to bring up those repressed emotions, and finally feel everything a 16 year old should’ve in his situation. He felt the pieces of his mind start to break and shatter, but he thought he could last a few more days, he thought -

Tommy broke, “I was - I am just so scared guys.”

He broke down, emotionally and literally; luckily for him, 3 boys caught him in both senses. He was sobbing now, into someone's shoulder, his coughs and hiccups hurt his sore throat, but it felt really good to let out. 

“I was all alone. For so- so long. I was hurt, and I had to learn to do everything myself. I had to learn horrible things, that I should’ve never had to do, I had to learn how to murder Phil. I told myself that I couldn’t talk because sound attracts monsters, and to pass the time, I would teach myself ASL. I told myself everyday that I would never be able to talk again Techno. I wrote everything down, I was dying to talk to someone - anyone. My mind was screaming, tearing at the walls for socialization. I miss my family, so, so much. I had to watch them die, Wil. Guys - I’m so scared. I didn’t think I was going to die so young.” He sobbed. 

“You’re not. I won’t let you Tommy. We are your family now, okay? We are your brothers, and we will do everything in our power to protect you.” Phil stated, confidence dripping in his tone. 

**You Are Safe. With Them.**

As the youngest boy’s shoulders shook violently, and he coughed into Wilburs neck, the three Older boys were scared, sad, and worried for Tommy, but they knew it was going to be okay, because if the last thing they could do with their lives was protect Tommy, that’s what they would do. That was their new mission. 

The youngest, blonde boy couldn’t see the silent looks his brothers gave one another. But, he didn't need to, he felt the bonds between the other three boys and himself grow. He felt their protection. 

“You Are Safe, Tommy.” Wilbur said finally. 

And it must have been true, because, well, he felt pretty safe that moment, safe in his brother's arms. 

**He was utterly and completely safe.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all like it! I hate to admit it, but my original 6 chapter plan is probably gonna be more like 10 or 15 or 20 chapters. I think you'll see a pattern, and trust me when I say, I have big plans.


	3. Dream, You Are Not Crazy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream. You Are _NOT_ Crazy. Sure, it's insane that the world is ending, and yeah, it's even crazier that you saw it coming, but you knows it's real and you feel okay now that you are with his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Credits go to the original author of the story I am basing this on, blah blah blah.  
> I will take it down if you want me too though, just ask dude.

**You Are Not Crazy.**

24 hours. That’s it. Dream doesn’t know that yet, but he feels the foreshadowing in the air, he has 24 hours to get his shit together. He has 24 hours until IT starts. 

It is 4:32 AM, in Eastern Standard Time, when Dream thinks he sees something in the woods a couple streets away. It is 4:32 AM, and he is on his roof, in the middle of Florida, he is sitting on top of his roof, on a call with George, when he sees that Thing. Sure, he shouldn’t be up this late, sure it could be a trick of the light, sure he’s been up for 20 + plus hours, surely it could be a hallucination. Surely, he was just crazy right? 

**You Are Not Crazy.**

It was 4:35 AM, when SapNap called Dream. He wearily picked up the phone, putting George on hold, and never taking his eyes off of that monster, that creature. It wasn’t unlike an Enderman, the fictional creature he had fought so many times, tall, and slender, dark, and seemingly dangerous. 

**You Are Not Crazy.**

It was 4:36 AM when SapNap finally said something, something that made Dream’s stomach flip. He had said what Dream had feared most in that moment - 

“Dude, uh, please tell me you see what I see right now - I uh, - what is that thing dude?” SapNap was panicked. 

“See what SapNap - uh - please don’t tell me you're talking about that thing - that monster - in the woods?” Dream, asked breathily. 

“The Enderman?” 

“Uh, yeah, I guess we could call it that - haha, yeah Sap, the Enderman.” 

“Dude, is the world ending?” SapNap choked out.

**You Are Not Crazy.**

“Um, yeah dude. I think it is.” Dream said surely. 

**You Are Not Crazy.**

Little did 7 billion other people know, two southern US citizens, were one of few who had spotted the end of the world early. They were the only few that could prepare. The only few who were ready, whatever that meant. 

**You Are Not Crazy.**

If Dream was sure about anything in that moment, it was that the world was ending, what he was not sure about however, was how to break the news to George. George, would not be ready, not to mention, how would he even get George to believe him? There was only one way, the only way to be sure, he’s not sure George would even answer, he doesn’t know if - 

Ring - Ring - Ring 

The facetime tone drowns out as George picks up. 

“Dude, why are you facetime me - um, is this how you want to show me your face at 9:38 in the morning?” George answers. 

“It’s 4:38 AM George.” Dream answers calmly, showing the camera his face. 

George is speechless, this was his best friend in the flesh, ‘why now?’ he thought, not that George ever wanted this to stop. George never wanted to go back to voice calling after seeing Dreams’ real face. George never wanted to - 

**You Are Not Crazy.**

“The World is Ending George.” Dream said, in the same cool tone. His face looked serious, but not panicked. 

“What do you mean the world is ending, what - um - what do you mean Dream?” Dream may not have looked panicked, but George sure sounded it. 

Dream turned the camera, facing the woods. George’s breath hitched. There it was, the long, slender, monster of darkness. The creature that was going to end the world. The creature that was going to take out most of humanity. 

**You Are Not Crazy.**

“Is that thing real?” George wondered aloud. 

“Yes.” Dream answered shortly, and swallowed “SapNap has seen one just like it. He just called me.” 

**You Are Not Crazy.**

It was 6:30 AM, when Dream had bought him and SapNap plane tickets to the UK. He had been packing most of his necessities, talking with George and SapNap about any possible plans they would make. It was 6:31 AM when George had asked about the cats. 

“Why are you asking? Of course the cats are coming.” Dream bluntly responded, while stuffing a case of water into his suitcase. 

“What if they don’t get along?” George asked shyly.

Dream burst out laughing, “It’s the end of the world George, and you are worried about our cats not getting along. Oh my god - I can’t breathe.” 

“Hey - he’s got priorities!” SapNap defended his friend. 

**You Are Not Crazy.**

It was 9:45 AM when Dream and SapNap met first in person. It was 9:45 and their plane was leaving at 10:15. They had 30 minutes to say goodbye to the US, for probably forever. It was 9:56 and they were laughing so hard they might pee their pants. This felt wrong, it all felt wrong, to be laughing this easily. 

It was a Saturday, and the world was about to end. It was a Saturday Morning, and they were leaving the US forever. It was a Saturday morning, and although Dream had a sickly feeling dip in the pit of his stomach, Dream can’t remember the last time he was this happy. It felt wrong. He felt crazy. 

**You Are Not Crazy.**

They got on the plane fine, they played minecraft together on their phones. The flight went smoothly, as smoothly as it could on the edge of an apocalypse. They sipped soda, and told stories, it was fun. And it felt wrong to have fun, but hey, Dream couldn't deny himself a good time on his last normal day. 

It was 9 PM Eastern Standard Time, when the two arrived at George’s front door. He lived alone in a small apartment. There was no way they could stay there. But, Dream thought, that they could probably make it work. 

It was 9PM when he felt the embrace of his best friend for the first time. When he smelt George’s mint shampoo, Dream didn’t even know that shampoo could smell like mint. When he met SapNap’s cats for the first time, when the other two met Patches. It was 9PM and they were having a family reunion. He felt crazy. 

**You Are Not Crazy.**

It was around 2PM Eastern Standard Time the next day when IT happened, and Dream supposed that he should start getting used to London time. When the Monsters started crawling out of the woods, and out of basements, and attics, and playgrounds, and everywhere anything could hide something came out. 

It was 2PM when Dream handled his first weapon. A metal baseball bat. It was 2PM when they scoured Georges house for those Things (the monsters), and any weapons they could find. They found a few metal poles, 2 baseball bats, and a set of kitchen knives. 

**You Are Not Crazy.**

It was 6AM London Time the next morning when George, SapNap, Dream, the cats and all of their important belongings ventured out to find better and more secure shelter. It was 6AM and they were all still reeling from the fact that the world was actually ending. It was 6AM, and even though the world was ending, Dream was insanely happy, he was with his two best friends and he was laughing so hard he was crying. 

It was really early in the morning, and Dream learned that George was a genius. 

“Guys,” George started, quietly as to not alert any of the nearby monsters, “What if we go to my highschool.” 

**You Are Not Crazy.**

All of the boys' eyes met, that was genius. 

George explained that the school was surrounded by a wall/gate thingy and he knew the passcode, George’s plan was to reset it as soon as they got inside. He further explained that the school had a garden, and a few beds from the nurse, and the necessary items a survival shelter were to have. It also had a kitchen, and tons of generators to get the power up and running when it inevitably would go out. 

They went into the school, and reset the password, and everything was looking okay for the three boys and their furry companions. Of course there was the spare monster or two they would have to fight off, but he felt okay. Dream saw himself living out quite a few more years with his friends by his side. Something that few could imagine during these trying times. 

Dream saw the apocalypse coming, and now, seeing his friends safe, he kept repeating the same words over and over again in his mind. 

**You Are Not Crazy.**  
**You Were Never Crazy.**  
**You Kept Your Friends Safe.**  
**You Did Your Job.**  
**You Are Not Crazy.**  
**You Are Smart.**

… 

8 months later Dream got a message from Techno. They rarely use the internet because the signal isn’t great, especially in the concrete school building the trio calls their home, but they keep in touch with their friends who made it. He got a message from Techno, that said, 

“ **You Are Not Crazy, Dream.** You did see him. Tommy is Alive.”  
And Dream smiled, knowing that when he does see something out of the corner of his eye, even for a split second, he was always right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahahaha, I really liked writing this part. I couldn't sleep last night thinking about how if this actually happened, Dream probably would've live streamed it or something idk, I feel like he would try to tell people, but he would also be like, I don't want people to panic, so sorry this is what you get. I also feel like in the apocalypse it's like a fend for yourself thing.  
> I liked the Tommy chapter better. I'm thinking about writing another Tommy chapter even though the next one was supposed to be Wilbur, idk, tell me what you think below. Pretend I'm you AP Lit teacher and describe to me how my use of Anaphoras change the mood of the text. I would love to hear your thoughts. 
> 
> Google Anaphora, I had to for my AP lit homework an hour ago.


	4. Wilbur, This Isn't Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Wilbur Soot, life had always been easy, he just assumed he was lucky. Even in the Apocalypse, he thought that he had luck by his side, but now looking back, maybe it wasn't luck at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank You for letting me use your world, and for giving me ideas. That was dope. You know who you are. 
> 
> All credits go to the Author of "(this was home)" 
> 
> I read that story d a i l y

**That Was Lucky.**

Wilbur Soot got through life with quite a bit of luck. He understood that fate seemed to always be on his side, he understood that he never had to study, he knew that he could go through life easily. He could sleep through lectures, and get an A on his essay; he could not practice guitar for weeks, and he would still be able to kill it at a gig; he could not post a video for weeks, and he would still get views and positive comments on his next video. To Wilbur Soot, life was easy, life was fun. 

Even in the apocalypse, even then, Wilbur Soot, had luck on his side. 

**That Was Lucky.**

It had happened on a Sunday. Mid-Afternoon. It was 2PM on a Sunday, and the television suddenly sounded an alarm. 

Wilbur was at the time enjoying a bowl of Lucky Charms, and watching reruns of Family Guy when it happened. He was living alone at the time, and he was far from alarmed. The television did test all the time, and until Wilbur took the time to read what the alarm had said, he was still calm, eating his bowl of cereal in his pajamas. Wilbur Soot had a few extra minutes of peace. 

**That Was Lucky.**

He read the announcement - 

_According to several sightings, 999 calls, and reported deaths, we regret to inform the citizens of the United Kingdom that there are monsters who have started terrorizing our world. The end of the world is here. We suggest you seek shelter immediately, and take care of your loved ones, because we are really sorry, but emergency services can no longer protect you. You are all on your own. We were honored to serve you as your leaders, but as citizens it is up to you to protect yourselves against the dangers out there now._

_As of today, at 2pm we are no longer responsible for your deaths, or anything you do. You are all now above the law. We hope we can serve you again._

_Sincerely, Queen Elizabeth and Parliament_

**That Wasn’t Lucky.**

He couldn’t think, he couldn’t move, the end of the world. huh. This is really not how he thought it would end: with a letter. He thought it would end with a boom, or a comet, or the sun exploding, never slow like this, never with an announcement, or with a letter. Wilbur wasn’t ready, he dropped his bowl and the glass flew everywhere. The noise brought his mind back to the present. He moved without thinking, going to grab a bag, and food, and his old baseball bat, and his guitar, and he did not know what to do. 

For now though, in his small apartment, he was safe. 

**That Was Lucky.**

He changed into some more appropriate clothes. Although it was springtime, it was quite cold in the UK, as it always was, really. He layered up with a sweatshirt, a jacket, jeans void of holes, and his Doc Martens, or as he would now refer to them, his ‘Kicking Boots’. He would throw some more clothes in the bag, but for now, that was the least of his worries. 

He tried to find any first aid supplies in his tiny apartment, but he already ripped it apart, and had to settle on a small first aid kit. Hey, it was by the red cross, he supposes it will do him good. 

**That Was Lucky.**

He ventured through the outskirts of Bradford, and supposed he must have been in between there and Manchester by now. He had been walking for days, weeks maybe, and when he thought about it hard enough he could keep track. It had been a month and a week. It had been a month and a week, and Wilbur was running out of food. 

Luckily, it seemed that Lady Luck was still on his side because as soon as he realized this, he spotted a house about 15 feet away, that he could totally break into. 

**That Was Lucky.**

Luck was a funny thing. It seemed as though everytime Wilbur ran out of food, he stumbled across a house that he could rummage through until he found something edible. 

Wilbur was clearly no stranger to luck, and although he had been faring extremely well, he was not happy - no, he was lonely. 

He missed the way that Tommy would shout at him and then grow quiet if Wilbur started talking back to him. He missed the hours he would train with Technoblade. He missed his conversations with Phil. He missed his friends and his family. He never had a great relationship with his parents, as they did not approve of his music or Youtube career, but hey every kid misses his parents. And that’s all he is. A kid. 

He honestly misses a lot of things. The way Niki giggled into the microphone. The way Dream would make fun of him for that one time Wilbur asked him out. The way George pretended to be mad at him for 2 weeks. He misses Bad’s kind words and Skeppy’s laugh. He missed normalcy. He missed when being lucky meant he got an A on his exam, not that he lived another day. 

**_That Was Lucky._ **

Of course, he has it pretty good. He always seems to find food, and when he can, he squats in houses for hours on end and writes poetry. He can’t actually sing because that would attract whatever was outside, but he could sure write songs, and he would. He wrote 3 more verses of “The Internet Has Ruined Me”. He wrote about being alone, he wrote about missing someone who he has never met, he wrote about longing for a place to belong. He wrote about home. He wrote about the feeling of home, not the actual place, he didn’t care where he was, he just wanted to feel safe, to feel loved, to feel lucky again - 

**That Was Lucky.**

He saw something. An abandoned building. It was an average suburban house, but instead of a white picket fence, there was a 10 foot tall brick wall going around it at all sides, with a gate in the center. It wasn’t very large, but it looked clean, and if he was correct, he heard electricity. He heard someone talking, talking like the outside world was normal, he heard laughing and if he wasn’t mistaken crying. All of it was muffled by the thick walls of the house, but he was sure he had heard it, he was sure - 

**That Was Lucky ?**

He tripped. Not over a rock, or his own feet. Whoever this dude was, whoever’s house this was, they weren’t dumb. They could talk however loud they wanted, because this dude had traps. Wilbur had fallen because of trip wire. God, it was like he was in minecraft. 

**That Was ?**

The talking stopped. God, Wilbur was dumb. This time he wasn’t even lucky. 

The lights that Wilbur hadn’t noticed before, went out. A door was opened, it creaked slowly, and he heard loud footsteps. But, no one had opened the gate yet. So, there was a 10 foot wall in between the two. 

“Hello? State your name and your purpose, or I will come out there and kill you.” 

**Who Was That ?**

That voice was familiar. It almost sounded like, like one of his old friends, it almost sounded like - 

“I’m Wilbur. Wilbur Soot. Um - I guess my plan was to raid your house, or find food - but, uh - then there was like a person - uh - I guess that was you - and I uh - I - heard electricity - and uh laughing and I was like - I don’t know - I guess - I uh - I wanted to laugh too - and - um -” Wilburs’ ranting was cut off by the gate opening and running footsteps, getting closer each second. 

Wilbur closed his eyes out of instinct and prepared for the worst, he whispered, “Please don’t kill me, I promise I won't rob you, I promise I’m human, please…” 

But the running never stopped. 

**This Was The End.**  
**But It Never Came.**

“Wilbur, look at me, Wil, I’m not going to hurt you - I uh - Wil I can’t believe you’re here. Please look at me.” The persistent and familiar voice pleaded. 

Wilbur Soot looked up. Wilbur found his long time friend standing there. 

**That Was Lucky. So, Very Lucky.**

“Techno?” Wilbur whispered, tears forming in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” Techno was laughing a little, and crying at the same time, “Yeah, Wil it’s me.”

**That Was Lucky.**

Techno helped the older boy up, and as soon as they were inside, they hugged. Much longer than either of them was willing to admit, but Wilbur Soot doesn’t regret this, that was the best hug Wilbur had ever had. He knew that with Techno he could be okay. He was no longer lonely, and he figured two fighters, two thinkers, two friends, two brothers, were better than Wilbur all alone. For the first time in days Wilbur was so incredibly happy. 

**That Was Lucky. Or, Maybe, It Just All Worked Out.**

… 

“Hey - uh - Techno,” Wilbur started as Techno made a noise for him to continue, “Why were you crying earlier, you seemed so, I don’t know, happy?” 

Techno laughed, and grinned widely, “I found Phil, Wilbur. I’m - no - we are going to meet up with Phil. Tomorrow, and he thinks he knows where the others are. Tomorrow, we are going to have a family again.” 

And for the first time in the last month and a half, Wilbur knew he had what he wanted: the feeling of a home. 

Wilbur Soot knew that **He Was Lucky** but, for now, he'd like to think that his life was meant to go this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're Welcome. 
> 
> Wilbur Soot. Wilbur Soot. Wilbur Soot. Wilbur Soot. Wilbur Soot. Wilbur Soot. Wilbur Soot. Wilbur Soot. Wilbur Soot. 
> 
> I do love me some Wilbur Soot.
> 
> Anyways, thank you all for reading, I hope you have a good sleep. 
> 
> Please Tell me what to write in the comments I love having ideas thrown at me lol.  
> But that would actually be really helpful. 
> 
> Anyways, I guess I'll tell you what's next:  
> 5\. Tubbo  
> 6\. BBH  
> 7\. Techno  
> 8\. Skeppy? Idk I think so. 
> 
> Analyze my writing in the comments please. I'm still waiting for someone to use to word Anaphora. Anyways, Good Night!


	5. Tubbo, This Is Lonely.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the 16 years that Tubbo has been on this earth, he had been an introvert. He was always very shy, and would rather have his one best friend then have 10 acquaintances. Now, this did not mean that Tubbo didn't have lots of friends, because a young and kind boy like himself had a real easy time making friends, but he never cared about having lots of them. He had his farm, and his parents, and his best friend Tommy, why would he need more? But, now, after being alone, for months he thinks, maybe, being alone: is overrated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why, but I imagined Tubbo as a farm boy. 
> 
> And, man I still haven't beat the word count of the first chapter, even though this one feels incredibly longer to me. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy the read.

**This is Lonely**

On Sunday, at 5 AM Tubbo realized that his parents weren’t going to come home. That Sunday at 5 AM, Tubbo awoke to his rooster, Ronald, sounding the alarm. Another day without his parents, another day alone. 

**This is Lonely**

Not that he had been counting, but it had been 6 days and 16 hours since his parents had left the house. Last Sunday, at 1 PM, was the last time Tubbo had seen his parents, and it was the last time he would see anyone else for a long time. 

**This is Lonely**

Tubbo was not ignorant or naive to what was going on outside the walls of his farm. If anything he was painfully aware. He knew that his parents were most likely dead, and so were most of his friends. 

His television stopped getting signal 4 days ago, but his radio would still pick up the irregular traveler. He kept a handheld radio latched onto his belt for weeks, months even, just waiting for someone to say that the world would be okay. For someone to say that his parents haven’t died, that his friends were okay. For someone to say that he was okay. But, he was okay. And he wasn’t lonely. 

**This is Lonely**

Everyday he would be woken up by Ronald, his rooster. He would wake up, and get dressed, and went off to feed the farm’s animals. 

It was the same thing everyday, after he awoke, he would feed the pigs first. His family kept 4 pigs, although his father would usually butcher them, Tubbo would never, and not just because he physically did not learn how, but because they were his friends now. The mother pig, and her 3 piglets. Each pig had a name, the mother pig had been in his family since before Tubbo was 10, she had been raised by him, and she was the only one that he made his father promise to keep. 

He fed them corn each morning since It happened. He has named them all now, renaming the Mother Techno, laughing to himself about the time his friend declared himself the king of all pigs. He named one of the piglets Tommy, after his missing, and maybe dead, but otherwise best friend. He named one of them Wilbur, after Charlotte's Web, and as an homage to his other friend, Wilbur Soot. After naming the first 3, it only made sense for him to name the last Phil. 

So there it was, his pigs, now named after his (probably dead) friends. 

His cows had names too, but they were less significant. Named very cliche cow names like Emma, and Annie. All of his animals were named now, after a couple months alone, even the fox that climbed into his yard once he nicknamed Fundy after his (furry) friend. But with all of his animal friends here he wasn’t lonely. Besides, he was a natural introvert, so why would he need social interaction? 

**This is Lonely**

Tubbo’s never seen the monsters he heard rumored to be outside, but he had heard the monsters, and the screams, and crys. He tries to forget the trauma that came with hearing his neighbors scream bloody murder, and deep in Tubbo’s heart he knew that it was his own fault that they didn’t make it. That he could have helped them. But the forefront of his mind tells him that he couldn’t have gone out there, not after what he heard, that he’s safe inside his walls and the farms gates, and that he wasn’t lonely, maybe, he was just sad. 

**This is Lonely**

There’s only so many months you can do the same things, the same routine, without thinking of things, things Tubbo did not want to think about. Taking care of the farm, milking the cows, gathering wheat, and feeding the pigs could only keep his mind busy for so long. 

So, instead of thinking about what was outside of the walls, instead of mourning, he learned. 

Tubbo tried hard, and fixed his computer enough to be able to catch a good signal from a far off router. He watched youtube while eating, he learned how to prepare all types of food, how to make cheese, how to frost a cake, how to speak spanish, he learned sign language because ‘why not?’, he learned about history, and he finished what was left of his curriculum. He finished Year 12 thinking, Tommy never got to do this… but he couldn’t ponder that thought. 

He couldn’t mourn his parents, he couldn’t think about how all of his friends are dead, he couldn’t think about how awfully lonely he was. Because he wasn’t. He wasn’t lonely, he had his animals, he had his friends’ old videos, he had everything anyone could ask for. He was okay. He wasn’t lonely. 

**This is Lonely**

Tubbo had never even been lonely before. How would he know what it even looked like? What did it feel like? He wouldn’t know, because he didn’t get lonely. 

**This is Lonely**

Tubbo was happy because he had to be. He is still living, he is still okay 6 months into this thing. 

**This is Lonely**

He had gotten sick. 

That morning when he woke up, he couldn’t breathe. He had to teach himself how to do so again. He was very, very, incredibly sick. 

A terrible feverish sickness. He was hallucinating, and crying, and his head felt like it was about to explode. He didn’t have much medicine, but he made do. He couldn’t stay in bed - he couldn’t stay in bed because he had to take care of his animals. He had to feed the pigs, he had to feed Techno, and Tommy, and Wilbur, and Phil. 

He had to make sure Fundy hadn’t snuck into his yard and killed a sheep, he had to make sure his farm was alright.

He had stumbled into the barn, and haphazardly thrown the corn all over the pig pen. He fell. He couldn’t stand, his legs didn’t work. 

His head was pounding, and he couldn’t get up, and he was hot. He took off his shirt. He was sweating profusely, but as soon as the layer of sticky fabric was separated from his sickly skin, he was freezing. He had to put it back on right away. 

He didn’t know what to do. Tubbo had survived 6 months into the - the Apocalypse, and the flu was going to take him out. 

It was a really bad flu. 

His mother would’ve known what to do. 

**This is Scary.**

He woke up. He woke up - he was alive and relieved. 

**This isn’t The End.**

His head still pounded, but not as badly as before. He could walk, he wasn’t as cold. He was going to make it. 

Stumbling into his house, he wanted to check the time, see how long he was out, he had to go to bed, he had to sleep. He had to go to sleep, alone again. Stop it - no, he wasn’t lonely. He was okay, he was sick, but he was okay. He wasn’t lonely. 

**This is Lonely**

He pulled his laptop onto his bed, and he wiped the sickly sweat off his brow. He checked the time - oh . He had been out for 2 days, almost exactly. 

A blinker came from one of his tabs, was that Discord? Who? Was someone he knew alive? 

_1 day ago._

**WilburSoot** : Hey Tubbo, I am with Phil and Techno right now. We just got the wifi up and working at our new base. We have been messaging everyone we can. Dream is alive, he is with SapNap and George. We are currently talking to and tracking down Bad and Skeppy. They are in America. They have found Mega and Zelk as well. We are currently looking for Tommy, Phil has been in contact with Dream and his gang for the last 2 months. Dream thinks he saw Tommy crossing through their area.  
Um, I know this is like rude to ask, but haha are you alive? 

**He was Lonely.**

Tommy was alive? Wilbur, Techno, and Phil too? Dream - and Skeppy and …  
All of his friends survived. And Tommy was alone, like him.  
But no one else was lonely. He didn’t have to lonely anymore, he didn’t have to be - 

**Lonely. So Very Lonely.**

He broke down. Tubbo was lonely, so, so, very, extremely lonely. He allowed himself to mourn his parents, and at the same time celebrate the fact that ALL of his friends were alive. He was sick, and crying, and tired, but he didn’t have to be lonely anymore. 

Through his choking, and his sobs, he gasped for air, and he smiled, and he cried some more. He didn’t have to be lonely. Because he was so very lonely. 

**Tubbo** : Yes. 

**WilburSoot** : Are You Okay ? 

**Tubbo** : No.  
**Tubbo** : But I will be. 

… 

The next month and a half, he had no longer worried about being lonely. Shortly after his messages were sent to Wilbur he had received a call from the group. He had cried out of joy, and told them that he was alive and well, and that he had everything he could ask for. 

**This isn’t Lonely**

He told them about how lonely he was, and how his parents were nowhere to be seen, but that he was okay. He told them that he was so incredibly happy that they were alive, how he thought they were dead, and how that he had named pigs after them.

**This isn’t Lonely**

Phil told him what to do to treat his fever and he was better within days. He told the trio that they had single handedly saved him. From what? He wasn’t sure, but he knew one thing for sure: 

**He Was Lonely.  
But he doesn’t have to be anymore. **

… 2 months after he had been contacted by Wilbur, he received a notification from his laptop. 

**TommyInnit is Online.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked it! I've been planning this chapter since I put the first one up about Tommy.
> 
> Thank You ALL for reading and commenting, really the comments make my day!
> 
> I wanted Tubbo to have a different struggle and strategy than Wilbur and Tommy.  
> Tommy and Wilbur are clearly extroverts, but their struggles had to deal with longing for a home, for a safe haven, for friends, for a family. Where as in Dreams' chapter, he had a much more internal struggle, "Am I crazy? Am I overreacting? Am I underreacting? This feels wrong." but I wasn't quite a fan of the way that chapter played out. I thought it felt rushed, and not as in-depth or thought provoking as the first chapter was.
> 
> Where in this chapter, Tubbo was having a much more internal conflict, that he wasn't sure how to fix. He had never felt lonely before because like most introverts (like myself) he felt content being alone, so he didn't know if that was what he was feeling. Not to mention the fact that he felt guilty for feeling lonely because he had fared well. I wrote a bit of survivors guilt into Wilbur's chapter, but I think his reasoning was different than Tubbo's. Wilbur was guilty because he had been so lucky, yet he still longed for more, for something better. Tubbo was guilty because he had a safe haven, and he was okay, he was going to be fine for a long time, he had fared better than everyone else. He never had to leave his house. His life was supposedly normal, never plagued by the monsters. But, he wasn't happy, he was depressed, and he wouldn't accept the fact that even though his life was seemingly good, he wasn't happy, and he was in the worse mental state he had ever been in. It was a depressing chapter guys. 
> 
> I wanted such a different feel from this chapter because in the other three, Dream, Wilbur, and Tommy seemed to be spiraling, but I wanted Tubbo to be level-headed and even seemingly naive to the world outside of his farm gates. And, I think I accomplished that. Maybe.
> 
> Anyways, Thank You for reading, and I think I will post Bad tonight? I want to say Techno is next like I promised, but it might be Mega, I have such a cool idea for the conflict he faces throughout his chapter. Comment what you thought of this chapter and if you have any ideas. Thank You!
> 
> Also, P.S: when writing this I listened to "whats new scooby doo" on an hour loop


	6. Bad, This Isn't Okay.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad was an optimistic guy. Most things he was okay with, most things were fine, good, dandy, for the most part life was good. Even throughout the end of the world things seem to be going okay. He is okay. But, maybe, just maybe, things aren't as okay as he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Sorry for not updating yesterday, I had a lot of homework to catch up on, and then my mom wanted me to spend actual time with my family, so that's that. 
> 
> Anyways. I'm very sorry, but I think this chapter seems very similar to the Tubbo chapter, sorry if it feels repetitive, I just really wanted to start the American (Bad, Skeppy, Mega, Zelk) story line. That and because I feel as though this was the only correct way to portray Bad. 
> 
> Hope You enjoy, and I will see you at the end notes for my in depth chapter analysis.
> 
> P.S GUYS I FINALLY BEAT THE FIRST CHAPTER WORD COUNT YESSSS
> 
> to @everyrest who suggested that Skeppy and Bad meet up and also, was the one who gave me the idea to include Mega and Zelk and also is the reason Bad and Skeppy are in America.

**This Isn’t Okay.**

It happened on a Sunday. Sunday is supposed to be that day of the week where nothing goes wrong, people have Sunday off of work. Sunday is the day that Bad goes to church. Sunday is a good day. 

**This Isn’t Okay.**

Sunday is no longer a good day. Sunday is the worst day of the week. 

_It_ happened on a Sunday. 

It’s okay though, because Bad was still alive on Monday. It was okay. 

**This Isn’t Okay.**

Bad still remembers that Sunday like it was yesterday. Bad remembers that Sunday too well. He had nightmares of that Sunday. 

The Sunday where it all went wrong. 

It’s okay though because Bad never had to fight one of those monsters, it was okay because it had to be, it was okay because Bad is still alive, he is still alive and well. 

**This Isn’t Okay.**

He had to hit the road. There were too many monsters, too many screams, too much blood, not enough people. Not enough hope. Not enough ‘okay’. 

He ran, and ran, and ran, as fast as he could. He brought very little with him. Just enough food for a few weeks, his throwing knives, and his laptop.

He couldn’t use his laptop right now, but deep inside himself, Bad felt as though he might need it again one day, one day where he can sleep soundly in a house, one day where he can play minecraft again. 

One day, the day he can finally see his friends again. 

But it’s okay, because he will see his friends again. He knows that he will. 

**This Isn’t Okay.**

He walks for days, he has to stop walking during the day. Florida gets too hot, and he can’t walk while the sun is out. He has to find a house to shelter in, he can’t sleep outside. 

He can’t sleep outside because the sun is too bright, and the ground is too hot, and because something might sneak up on him. Something that shouldn’t. But, something that will. 

He has never seen one during the day, but he doesn’t keep a habit of being outside during the day either. 

It’s okay though - it’s okay - and he is alive, and he is well. He hasn’t gotten sick yet, and he isn’t hurt. Sure, he might have a sunburn, and he may not be able to sleep well with all the nightmares, but hey - he is alive. Which is much more than most can say right now. He is okay. 

**This Isn’t Okay.**

He - he has to kill. 

His first murder was on a Sunday. 

Sundays are the worst days of the week. 

**This Isn’t Okay. This Isn’t Okay. This Isn’t Okay. This Isn’t Okay. This Isn’t Okay.**

He has to kill. 

And sure, it may be a monster. 

It may have been someone who was trying to kill him. 

_But it was someone._

And Bad couldn’t handle that. Bad couldn’t stop thinking about it for weeks. 

**This Isn’t Okay. This Isn’t Okay. This Isn’t Okay. This Isn’t Okay. This Isn’t Okay.**

He couldn’t get the blood off his hands. 

Look, he knows that this isn’t Macbeth, but he can’t get the feeling off. 

The blood is on his hands, it is on his knife, it is on his clothes, it is in all of his nightmares, it is on the back of his eyelids. It was always on his mind. 

**This Isn’t Okay. This Isn’t Okay. This Isn’t Okay. This Isn’t Okay. This Isn’t Okay.**

He had to get out of Florida. He had to get out - 

**This Is Spiraling.**

He knew he couldn’t be in Florida. It is probably the worst place he could be.

He can’t - he can’t - Bad couldn’t live with himself. 

**This Is Spiraling.**

He was scared - of himself. He didn’t want to have to kill - he had to - he had to do something. 

**This Is Spiraling.**

He stumbled out of Florida. He stumbled as far as he could. He had to sleep somewhere, he found a house. He broke a window, he dragged himself in. He lied on the old, unmade, and unused bed. He slept for 3 days. When he woke up, it was in the middle of the night. 

When he woke up. He kept walking. 

**This Is Spiraling. Is He Still Spiraling?**

He tried not to think about it. 

He still saw the face of that thing in his dreams. He still felt the weight of the blood soaked in his clothes. He still saw the red on his hands. He tried not to think about it. 

He busied his mind. 

He counted the minutes. He noticed everything he saw on the abandoned roads. He picked up every magazine, and every book, and he read it twice over. He wrote in the margins with a dirty old pen he picked up at a house. He would leave the book in a different place, a different city, for hopefully another traveler to find. 

**This is Okay?**

He walked for another month or two. He didn’t know anymore. He thinks it was 3 or 4 months in. He wasn’t sure though. He was never sure. 

**This is Okay?**

The nightmares weren’t as bad anymore. Bad did not have to kill another monster. He was getting better. 

He still walks. There is nothing better to do, and he doesn’t feel safe staying in one town for more than a few days. 

Every so often he sees something in the corner of his eye, but he tries not to pay attention to it. He’s trying to get better. He’s trying to stop spiraling. 

He still sees the red on his hands. But the weight of his blood soaked clothes are a bit lighter. He doesn’t smell it anymore. He feels comfortable keeping his knife in his pocket again. He doesn’t plan on throwing it at another monster again, but he still wants it for protection. He feels okay, and he thinks - 

**This Is Kinda Okay.**

He hears it one day. 

He hears something that saved him, but also comes into his nightmares. 

He hears the scream. 

**This Isn’t Okay.**

One day, and of course, it’s a Sunday. He hears a scream bloody murder. It was only one, and then he heard a loud thud. He wasn’t sure if the person - well, Bad assumes that the scream came from a person - was knocked dead, of it the person killed the monster. The worst part is that, he knows he has heard that scream before, he can’t pinpoint it, but somewhere, before this happened, whatever happened, he knew that scream. 

He ran, he ran as fast as he could. He had to see if there was another person alive. Even if he had to kill another monster, that was worth it. A new spiral would be worth the chance of meeting a survivor. 

He ran and ran and ran and ran. 

He wanted to see someone, talk to someone. He hadn’t realized how awfully lonely he was until he heard the scream. A hope for humanity. 

**This Isn’t Okay.**

He reached a house. It wasn’t large, but it wasn’t tiny by any means. It was much larger than a regular house, whoever lived here was okay, they had to be. 

There was a large picket fence on the outside of the house. He assumes that is how the person had survived so long. He wants to assume that the person is still alive - especially since he feels as though he knows that scream. 

**This Isn’t Okay.**

He slowly made his way inside the yard, unlatching the gate slowly, and creeping into the front yard. He saw that the back door is open, he assumed that’s how the monster made it in.

He walked into the house with caution, holding his knife in his hand. 

Bad thought - please, please, be a person, please, I don’t want to have more blood on my clothes, I don’t want red on my hands again, I don’t want to spiral - he froze. 

**This Isn’t Okay.**

He could see a silhouette in the corner of his eye. The silhouette was on the ground, it was on the ground, but it was moving. 

He shifted ever so slightly, so he could see if the silhouette would make an advance on him. 

“Hello… are you okay? Are you a human?” Bad asked quickly, without moving. He still couldn’t fully see the shadow in the corner. 

The shadow made a sound. It seemed like they couldn't speak. The shadow knocked on the floor. 

“-.-- . ... --..-- / .. / .- -- / .... ..- -- .- -. .-.-.-”

Was that morse code? A monster couldn’t know morse code - how could he tell if that was morse code - how could he tell if that was a person. 

“Knock twice if that was morse code.” Bad thought this was a person, but he could never be too sure. 

“ _Knock. Knock._ ”

Before he moved to look at the stranger he asked one more question. 

“Knock four times if you need help.” 

“ _Knock. Knock._ ” There was a pause, “ _Knock_ ” there was another pause, and then a weaker, “ _Knock._ ”

**This Isn’t Okay.**

Bad turned around instantly. 

He was shocked. He couldn’t move. 

Skeppy was sitting in front of him. Skeppy - his friend, his best friend, Skeppy out of all people, he was here and he was alive. After 3 months of traveling alone, Bad found Skeppy, Bad found his best friend. 

Skeppy was sitting in front him. 

Skeppys’ throat was slit. Skeppy couldn’t talk. Was Skeppy going to die? 

He rushed over. 

“Hey - oh my god - you’re alive - oh my god - Skeppy - are you okay - oh my god.” Bad stuttered. He was in disbelief. 

**This Definitely Isn’t Okay.**

“-- -.-- / - .... .-. --- .- - / .... ..- .-. - ... --..-- / .. / - .... .. -. -.- / - .... . -.-- / -... .-. --- -.- . / -- -.-- / ...- --- -.-. .- .-.. / -.-. .... --- .-. -.. ... / --- .-. / ... --- -- . - .... .. -. --. --..-- / -... ..- - / .. / .- -- / --. --- .. -. --. / - --- / .-.. .. ...- . / -.-- --- ..- / -. . . -.. / - --- / -....-”

“I don’t - I don’t know Morse code Skeppy - do you have paper? I have a pen - where can I find something for you to write on?” Bad asked frantically, he couldn’t lose his friend right after finding him.

Skeppy pointed right behind Bad, there was a table - there was a notebook. 

Bad rushed, and tripped over himself a couple of times but he got the notebook to Skeppy. 

Then, written on the paper said : _My throat hurts, I think they broke my vocal cords or something, but I am going to live. You need to get the first aid kit. It’s down the hall, first door, in that closet, I will show you how to wrap it._

**This Is Okay.**

Bad did in fact wrap up and heal Skeppys’ wound. But, still a month later, Skeppy couldn’t talk. But it was okay, he had Bad to help him, and Bad had Skeppy. Bad told Skeppy about his 4 months alone, he told him about the spiral, he told him about the books that he read, and he told him about the houses, and cities he visited. Skeppy did quite a few dramatic reenactments about his time alone. He told Bad that this used to be his parents house, but no, he hasn’t heard from them since this started. He offered to teach Bad Morse code, and they worked on that for days. 

It was okay. Bad was okay with Skeppy there. 

Although, Bad did know that in fact things were **Not Okay** , not as okay as he would’ve liked anyways, but he figured that in itself was okay. 

...

A month later, Bad and Skeppy heard rushed knocking at the door. As they headed over to it Bad gripped his knife close to his side and Skeppy held a lead pipe, but when they opened it, they both immediately dropped their weapons. 

“Mega?”

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. Hahahaha I finally finished that one English assignment I had been talking about so I'll be writing this now! 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, um I hope that it wasn't too similar to the last.
> 
> Hope you had fun reading this, tell me what you think in the comments, and I will update you soon.
> 
> Sincerely, Lilly.


	7. George, You're Not Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George never had crazy strong emotions, whether that means he felt things passively, or just not as intense as his friends and family, he just never felt them as strong as everyone else. Not much bothered George, but he was starting to think, that, that was in fact the problem. 
> 
> Thank You To: @awaketillsunrise , who gave me the entire idea for this chapter! And the next chapter tbh. They have given me a ton of awesome ideas, and let me tell you, this story would be entirely different, especially because of the chapter I had thought about doing for George.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, Thank You To: @awaketillsunrise. 
> 
> Anyways, here is a George chapter, that I wasn't even going to do, but then I realized that the DTeam also needs to be written. 
> 
> ALSO, I just listened to Saline Solution for the first time last night, and I have been listening to it non-stop. I can't. 
> 
> Enjoy, the chapter guys!!

**You Are Broken.**

It was about a month into whatever this thing was, and that was when George started thinking too much. Too much about relatively nothing. 

The Nothing Was The Problem. 

**You Are Broken.**

It had been a month since he had hid away in his old highschool. It had been a month since he had seen anyone other than his two best friends. 

He had had fun with his friends. He would laugh with them over dinner, he would wake them up with cold water in the morning, he would push them off their chairs, he had learnt a lot about his friends. 

The way Dreams’ voice sounded foggy and thick when Dream had just woken up. The way SapNaps’ nose would scrunch up when he smiled. The way Dream would always make room for George on their makeshift couch. The way SapNap has snuck into each classroom and had drawn all over the chalk boards. His friends were better than he could’ve ever asked for. 

He could tell that they were mourning, that they missed the outside world. 

But that’s the thing, George did not miss everyone as much as Dream or SapNap did, he did not miss anything nearly as much as his two best friends did. He didn’t feel anything as much as his friends did. He didn’t feel anything. Was he broken? 

**You Are Broken.**

The thing was, he didn’t feel much remorse. Of course, he missed his parents and the friends that he would never get to see again. Of course he mourned them, assuming that they were dead. But, George felt as though he didn’t feel feelings to the extent his friends did. He didn’t have the depressive episodes that SapNap had when thinking about his family or hometown friends. He didn’t throw himself into some new invention like Dream did, when Dream thought too much about the state of the world. He felt kind of numb, like he felt those feelings, but not even close to that extent. 

**You Are Broken.**

George busied himself. He fixed the satellite on the roof, he messed with cables and computers. He made the trio breakfast and dinner everyday. He picked up piano, and started playing in the old auditorium. He read his old textbooks. He looked through the classrooms, and found every crumpled piece of paper, he read through all of the students old notes. He read through teachers' lesson plans. 

He looked through the attendance sheets, and separated the students notes and folders by name. He learned about the students. He learned about this one girl , Olivias’ , boyfriend and her grades, and her friends, and her dog, and her life. 

He found every old textbook with his name scrawled in it. He looked at his old doodles and notes, and remembered when life was easy, when he could simply be numb without thinking about it - 

He busied himself so that he didn’t have to be numb. 

**You Are Broken.**

He refused to go outside. 

SapNap and Dream resigned to the thought that George was scared. 

That he didn’t want to have to kill. Dream and SapNap have both killed these monsters before. They are southerners, Dream is from Florida - they’ve seen crazier things. 

SapNap has talked to George about it - George stayed quiet. 

SapNap told George that it was perfectly normal to not want to see his hometown in shambles. To not want to see the world gone to shit. That he didn’t have to check for the monsters, that he does enough, that Dream and SapNap would take care of the monsters. That it was okay to be scared, that it was okay to not want blood on his hands, it was okay, everything George was feeling was okay. 

It was not okay. 

George did not feel much. 

**You Are Broken.**

He stayed like this for weeks, maybe months. Busying himself, learning new things, gardening in the indoor greenhouse (that was previously used for the Botany class), checking out the classrooms, cooking new recipes, fixing computer wires, re-checking the satellite. 

He tried not to think. His mind was his foe. His mind was screaming at him. This was not right. 

George should be missing his family more than he was. He should cry about his dead friends. He should cry about the state of the world. He shouldn’t feel nothing.

He felt fine. 

He felt broken. 

**You Are Broken.**

He couldn’t take it anymore - he had to feel something - well, he did feel something - he felt broken - 

He felt wrong. 

**You Are Broken.**

Did he not love his parents the way everyone else did - did he not love his friends - did he not love his life ? 

**You Are Broken.**

Did he even like living ? 

**You Are Broken.**

He clearly did not care about the state the world was in - so why would he. HE HAS TO LIVE HERE - WHY DOESN’T HE CARE 

**You Are Broken.**

WHY DOESN’T HE CARE 

**You Are Broken.**

WHY IS HE BROKEN - 

**He broke.**

He went up on the roof - he couldn’t see anything - this roof was of the computer lab, it was surrounded by other buildings with taller roofs. The world was blocked off from him.

Like how he was blocked off from the world. 

**He was Broken. So, broken.**

He checked the Satellite and sat there. He sat there for hours. 

The cold air was nipping as his fingers and his toes. He didn’t get gloves or shoes. He sat there and felt it. He wanted to feel something. 

He felt the wind in his hair, and the wetness around his eyes. He let out a few silent tears, and let them freeze to his face. He sat, and he stared at the wall letting his thoughts consume him. He thought about Dream, and SapNap, and the world, and his friends, and his parents, and everyone he was never going to see again. 

He dug his nails into the palm of his hand. He sat like that until his hands were bleeding. His lips were chapped from the cold air. He pulled on his hair, little by little, until it hurt. He wanted his scalp to scream with pain - anything to feel the sadness that he knows everyone else feels. 

He wanted to be in pain too. He wanted to feel. 

He sat criss-cross in the same spot for hours. Until he felt pain all over. Until his eyes dried out. Until there were scrapes on his ankles, and scabs on his knees from sitting too long. Until his neck hurt so bad he had to look down. 

He picked at the scabs on his hands. He did anything to feel. 

**You Are Broken. You Are Broken Beyond Repair. You Can Not Be Fixed.**

He sat like that until he felt a presence next to him. A tall, blonde, Florida kid sat next to him. 

“George.” Dream said softly. 

“Yeah,” George answered breathlessly. 

“Are you okay?” 

“No.” George Laughed. 

“You don’t have to do this alone, SapNap and I both know how you’re feeling,” George let out a breathy laugh, “It’s okay to be sad and scared George -” He paused. “Why are you bleeding?” 

The concern in his voice was apparent. And if George wasn’t so sure that Dream would see through his lie, he wouldn’t have told him the truth. But alas, George knew that he had to tell Dream how he was truly feeling. Or rather _not_ feeling. 

“I had to feel something.” George deadpanned. 

“What - what do you mean - feel something - George ..” Dream started, stuttering, George knew Dream would not understand until he explained it to him. 

“I - I don’t feel the same things that you do.” George started, “I know, in my head, I know what I should be feeling. I’ve never felt feelings as strong as many people. Feelings to me are always fine. I feel joy, and I have my bad days, but I don’t feel emotions dramatically. It’s like how my mind tells me that your eyes are green - but to me they are a sickly yellow. Or at least that’s what I am told the color is. I feel happy, but I will never feel as happy as you can be, and of course I miss my parents, but I will never mourn them the same way as you do.” 

George swallowed. And watched Dream intensely. It seemed as though Dream still did not see the problem. 

“I - Dream, the problem isn’t feeling too much. It’s that I don’t feel enough. I’m worried that I will kill something, and I won’t feel a thing. I’m broken, Dream. I’m fucking broken and nothing can fix me. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice never wavered, and he was sure that if it was anyone else having this conversation, they would’ve broken down in tears. 

They sat for a few moments in silence. In George’s head, he knew that Dream thought he was broken, Dream did not want to be his friend anymore, that he couldn’t live with someone who didn’t feel. 

“George,” Dreams’ voice broke, as he looked George directly into his eyes, “Listen to me right now. You. Are. Not. Broken. You may feel things differently, but you are not Broken okay?” 

George breathed shallowly. 

“Okay.” 

They sat there for another couple of hours, mostly in silence, but that time it was comforting. He knew his friends would accept him no matter how he felt. 

George knew that **He Was Broken** , but maybe not as broken as he thought. 

… 

After a few hours of sitting on that roof, the two boys started to get up, when they saw a young, tall, blonde boy walking. They both stared at him for a minute, he looked so awfully familiar. They had only stopped staring once he was out of view. 

“Who was that, he looked -” George started asking, when he was interrupted. 

“George,” Dream started in awe, “ _I think that was Tommy._ ” 

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, I really loved the idea of having Georges' issue being emotional numbness, because in all the other chapters the main issue was feeling TOO much, and in this its the exact opposite. It created a nice and different mood compared to the rest of the story. I can really relate to this chapter, as I have had empathy problems, and I myself, know that I don't feel sadness, or sympathy, or empathy, or loss as much or as powerful as other people I know. I know that I have an irregularly thick skin, and that I can be mean or rudely straightforward without thinking about it. It was interesting to write about. 
> 
> GUYS I HAVE ALL OF THE CHAPTERS PLANNED OUT I THINK 
> 
> Chapter 7: Techno, You Don’t Have to be Strong  
> Chapter 8: Mega, The Silence is Killing You  
> Chapter 9: SapNap, There Is A Point  
> Chapter 10: Zelk, Not Everything Sucks  
> Chapter 11: Phil, You Are Not Responsible  
> Chapter 12: Skeppy, You Are Enough  
> Chapter 13: Tommy, You Will Be Okay 
> 
> Also, the chapter titles are based on what they believe/come to terms with at the end of the chapter. 
> 
> I will be updating either once or twice a day.  
> And, if I can't I will tell you the day before. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Tell me what you think in the comments, and have a nice night! ( I say that because although I live in EST, I know most of yall read this at night).


	8. Techno, You Don't Have to be Strong.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever since Techno was a kid, he knew one thing: Do not show weakness. 
> 
> He had to learn to be the best at everything, or to put on a thick skin and pretend that he was. 
> 
> It was the only thing he had going for him. Being strong. 
> 
> But, maybe, when it's the end of the world, he didn't have to be strong anymore, at least, not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for everyone who has to read this twice sorry!! I went through and just decided to put this into one big chapter. It was kind of rushed and gross sorry. I still hope you like it. It kind of parallels Georges arc a bit idk. Yeah, I think it is kinda gross and whatnot but you guys liked the Dream chapter and I hated that one too. So who knows. 
> 
> Enjoy.

**You Have to be Strong.**

He knew he had to be strong right now. It was the end of the world, it was the damn apocalypse, he had to be strong. For himself, for Wilbur, for Phil. He had to be strong. 

And now, he had to be strong for Tommy.

**You Have to be Strong.**

Tommy had arrived at Techno, Phil, and Wilburs’ safe house about a week and a half ago. He came bruised, and bloody, and hurt. 

It broke Techno’s heart to see Tommy like that. 

Tommy, the only little brother figure in his life. Tommy, a 16 year old british boy, who had witnessed more trauma than Techno ever would. Tommy, who watched his parents die, and had to kill monsters, and who had to travel hundreds of miles alone. Tommy, who could barely talk anymore. Tommy, who instead of getting better, had gotten worse. 

**You Have to be Strong.**

Tommy had moved past the fears associated with talking. He really wanted to talk. He wanted to shout, and sing, and tell his friends about his adventures from the time he was alone. Techno could tell that Tommy was dying to boast about the monsters he had faced, and how he was stronger and smarter than The Technoblade. 

Techno laughed a little. He was fond of the fact that Tommy still hero-worshipped him a little. That Tommy still looked up to him as this undefeatable force. That Tommy still believed that Techno was strong. That Tommy believed in him.  
But alas, Tommy had not gotten better, he had gotten worse. 

**You Have to be Strong.**

It started out slowly. Tommy would lose his voice once or twice a day. He couldn’t speak for an hour or two. Nothing that wasn’t normal for the recovery process. 

Then, he started losing his voice for days at a time. He couldn’t talk or even make sounds without bursting into tears. It hurt everyone to see Tommy that scared and in that much pain. 

But Techno had to be strong. 

He couldn’t let Phil or Wilbur know how Tommy’s choked sobs kept Techno awake at night. He couldn’t tell them. Not yet. 

**You Have to be Strong.**

Then, about a week later, things escalated quickly. Tommy couldn’t get out of bed one morning. His frail bones were too weak to walk him around the house. Everyone could tell Tommy was scared. 

Techno had to be strong. But, that morning, there was a silent agreement. Phil and Wilbur had to be strong too. They all couldn’t let Tommy know how scared they were. They all had to ease Tommy. Tommy shouldn’t have to be strong. 

That morning, they made sure to tell extra jokes. Wilbur carried Tommy around on his shoulders, and had joked about Tommy being the tallest man in the world. 

Everyone laughed so hard that day. Everyone laughed too hard. 

**You Have to be Strong.**

It was that night when Tommy had laughed so hard he started coughing. 

Tommy started coughing up blood. 

Nobody knew what was wrong with him. 

**You Have to be Strong.**

All that Techno knew was that he whispered reassurances to Tommy all night that night. And if he stayed up, to make sure that when Tommy awoke in a coughing fit, Techno was there to help him, well that was Techno’s business. 

**You Have to be Strong.**

About 3 weeks into Tommy’s stay, Wilbur had fixed up a laptop. 

It was something the three boys had been working on for upwards of 3 months. They had gotten an extremely weak signal to their Desktop. But, they had wanted to fix up this laptop enough to get a signal from anywhere in the base. Unfortunately the signal was just as bad on the laptop as it was on the desktop. 

But, the laptop had a use. 

Tommy could use the laptop. 

**You Have to be Strong.**

Wilbur and Techno had set up the laptop onto Tommy’s bed, while the two older boys made the younger keep his eyes shut.

 _Really, what are you two doing? Can I open my eyes now?_ Tommy signed. 

“Tommy, you know we don’t know sign language.” Wilbur sighed. 

“Maybe he’s cursing us out,” Techno joked. “It would be very efficient.” 

Once they finished setting it up, they told the blonde boy to open his eyes. 

He looked excited, but confused. 

He pointed to the screen with a confused face.

“Look,” Wilbur started, “It doesn’t have great signal. BUT, you can message. And I think there is someone on there who you would really talk to.” 

Tommy clicked on the browser, which was only hooked up to discord. Techno watched as his eyes lit up and his smile extended towards his eyes. 

**Tubbo_ is online.**

The only thing that could be heard throughout the safehouse that day was the excited clicking of a keyboard. 

Hey, and maybe, just maybe Tommy cried tears of joy that day. Techno knew Tommy would never admit that to Tubbo, but it warmed his heart to see Tommy so happy. Everything was worth it. 

And, maybe, if Wilbur and Techno sat there all day, instead of doing the chores they told Phil they would do, just to watch Tommy be so incredibly happy for hours on end, they weren’t about to rat eachother out. 

They had to be strong for each other. 

**You Have to be Strong.**

When Dream messaged Techno asking about Tommy, Techno was speechless. 

He didn’t even think Dream would care enough to check on Tommy. He must’ve been an idiot because Dream was the one who found him in the first place. Dream was nicer to Tommy than he ever was. 

Suddenly, Techno felt bad for everything he has ever said to Tommy. 

**Dream** : Hey, how is Tommy? I assume you took him in, and that he is still with you? He looked pretty banged up when I saw him walk by a month or so back - just wanted to check in. 

What would Techno even say to that? Was he supposed to tell Dream that Tommy was falling apart, and that he wasn’t sure he would even wake up tomorrow? That Tommy can’t walk or speak, but that he was safe? 

**Technoblade** : Yeah, Tommy is here. He was quite surprised to find us. He has been staying with us, I don’t know if I have ever seen Wil so happy before. He’s good. Yeah, pretty hurt, and a little sick right now, but we are taking care of him. 

Techno lied through the screen. 

He couldn’t tell Dream that Tommy was falling apart slowly. He couldn’t let the trio know that Techno wasn’t sure what they would do if Tommy died in their hands. Nothing good, that’s for sure. 

He had to be strong. He’s sure that Dream, George, and SapNap have enough on their plates. They don’t need to worry about Tommy’s physical health, or Techno’s mental health for that matter. 

**You Have to be Strong.**

Sometime around then was when Wilbur came back from a nearby town. 

They need supplies, and Wilbur always seems to be very Lucky with his findings. Not to mention, he had the most experience with looting houses, and seems to find it somewhat fun, and hey - Phil and Techno weren’t about to volunteer. 

This time, along with food, and medicine, he came back with a book. 

The Encyclopedia of Medicine. 

When Wilbur quietly gave it to Techno, they didn’t have to talk about it. 

He knew what it was for. 

**You Have to be Strong.**

Technoblade looked up Tommy’s symptoms in the Medical Encyclopedia that night. 

It was worse than any of them thought. 

_Radiation Poisoning: If the patient was exposed for more than 2 weeks, it may turn lethal._

He had to be strong. He couldn’t cry. He had to be strong. He couldn’t cry. He had to be strong. 

Techno spent that entire night looking at causes and treatments.

He found a few medications that could ease it, but only time could tell if Tommy was going to survive. Techno would have more hope in Tommy if he hadn’t gotten so bad so fast. 

He needed to figure out how long Tommy was exposed without scaring the boy. 

Because, if Tommy was going to die. He was going to be happy when he did. 

**You Have to be Strong.**

He shared his findings with Wilbur, all except one. 

Wilbur didn’t have to know how lethal this was. Wilbur should be able to look at his younger brother without imagining his corpse, without wanting to cry. 

Techno was the only one who knew. Techno had to stay strong. 

**You Have to be Strong.**

He looked through the medical cabinets, and couldn’t find the medicine Tommy needed. 

He decided to message Tubbo. 

**Techno** : Hey Tubbo, can you look through your medicine cabinets for me and see if you have Neupogen? I will come pick some up. I will bring Tommy? 

**Tubbo** : Sure! I can totally do that for you! Um… any reason why you need it? Sounds fancy. 

**Techno** : Tommy is still sick, we need some. Blah blah blah, we don’t have any. How far away are you? We are in Brighton. 

**Tubbo** : No way! I’m right outside of Brighton. I will send you the address. And btw, I have the medicine you’re looking for. Not sure how much though. 

**Techno** : That’s okay, any little bit helps! It looks like you’re about a 20 minute walk away, jeez, I will start visiting you more often Tubbo! We will be heading there this afternoon. I will knock 4 times okay? Don’t answer unless it’s 4 times. 

**Tubbo** : Got it. 4 times. 

He was going to get Tommy the medication he needed. It was going to be okay. Techno was strong. 

**You Have to be Strong.**

Of course Techno did not tell Tubbo how serious Tommy was. Techno did have to disclose that he was not doing very well. He had to, Wilbure carried Tommy in on his shoulders. He could walk a little bit now, but he could’ve never walked for 20 minutes straight. 

Techno did not need Tubbo to be scared. Well, more scared. When he saw the boys’ eyes light up as Tommy slowly walked in, and how he ran the matching distance, Techno felt something wash over him. 

Tubbo was his responsibility now too. 

**You Have to be Strong.**

He watched the two boys embrace. He figures he never realised how close the two were in real life. Sure, he and Tommy were close, but Tommy and Tubbo were best friends. Not online best friends. Real life best friends. They slept over each other's houses and called each other everyday. They were best friends. 

He remembered what it was like seeing Wil again, and figured that the emotions must’ve been even stronger for these boys, with how scared they were. 

Techno wasn’t scared he was strong. He wasn’t scared. 

**You Have to be Strong.**

He sat on the roof. 

He had heard from SapNap that all of the DTeams’ important conversations had happened on the roof. Most recently on the roof of the old school building they were staying in, but even before, SapNap had confessed that he and Dream would sit on their respective roofs and talk for hours over the phone.

He figured, maybe if he sat up on the roof. He could have his own important conversation. 

With himself of course, but he felt as though he needed a moment to think. 

**You Have to be Strong.**

He - he had to be strong. 

Of course he was scared for Tommy. He loved Tommy. 

Of course he was scared every time Wilbur went outside. He loved Wilbur. 

Of course he was scared when Phil left the house for days at a time. He loved Phil. 

But - he had to be strong for them. Because if he was scared they would get scared. If he showed weakness he would be a burden - if he

**You Have to be Strong.**

Someone sat beside him. Phil. 

He felt instantly warmer, not even knowing he was cold before. 

Phil put his arm around the younger boy. 

**You Have to be ?**

“You don’t have to be strong all the time. You know that right?” Phil asked. His voice, deep. 

Techno did not know that. It was not the truth. He had to be strong - he had to be - he had to 

“No.” He answers, voice clogged with tears threatening to come out. 

“You know you’re a hypocrite. Telling Tommy it’s okay to be scared.” Phil continued. 

“I know.” Techno started, “But, he should be scared. I’m the adult here.”

“You’re not the only adult.” 

“I know.” Techno answered again. 

“Then start acting like you’re not. You are actually the youngest one here.” Phil said, the annoyance in his voice was clear now. “I will say it again, you don’t have to be strong, Tech. You can’t protect everyone from the World.” 

“I don’t want to protect everyone, I want to protect Tommy.” Techno replied smartly. 

“And Tubbo, and Wilbur, and Dream, and SapNap, and would you like to go on?” 

“No. I - I don’t. I need to, Phil. It’s all I can do.” Techno sighed. 

“What - no - what do you mean? That’s all you can do?” Phil asked, confused. 

“It’s all I know how to do. To be strong. To be good enough. To protect.” 

“You are so much more than that Techno. Look at me.” And he did, Techno looked at Phil straight in the eyes. Phils eyes were tearing up, which made Techno’s as well. 

“You are smart, and so kind, and so much more to Me, Wilbur, and Tommy than a strong guy, okay? Please tell us what’s going on in your head, Techno. Tell me, right here, right now.” 

“Right now?” Techno laughed. 

“Yes.” Phil answered seriously. 

Techno let it all out. It felt good to let his barriers down. Put his armour up. To not be strong anymore. He couldn’t do it anymore - he couldn’t be strong. He never realised how hard it was. How hard it had been. He cried and cried and cried until his eyes were bloodshot, and his throat was scratchy. 

Ten thousand pounds were lifted off his shoulders. He knew he did not have to carry the world, but it felt like it was his responsibility. For the time being though, he guessed he could share the weight with Phil and Wilbur. 

Techno felt as though he had to carry the weight of the world, but maybe, just maybe, he knew that he could share that burden with his family.

…. 

“Hey -” Phil nudged Techno awake from where they had fallen asleep atop the barn roof, Phil was pointing to a figure off in the distance “Is that George?” 

....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I changed it. WOO HOO. 
> 
> Tell me what y'all think in the comments. I really love reading them. The super long ones are my favorite lol. 
> 
> I'm not sure about this one. It's kinda filler. 
> 
> Spoiler alert, Tommy does not die of radiation poisoning.


	9. Mega, The Silence is Killing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mega has lived his whole life in silence. Usually, it's the loud noises that scare him, but now, after months of being alone, maybe, just maybe, the silence is what is killing him on the inside. 
> 
> Credits to: @awaketillsunrise for the Mega idea, and some others that inspired the chapter. 
> 
> Happy Wednesday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HONESTLY this chapter is my savior after writing the last. I'm not very good at, and don't particularly enjoy writing dialogue, so this is great. 
> 
> I think that I am much better at writing passively than actively, if you get what I mean. I would much rather write a character who is lost in their own head, than about a character who has to converse their feelings and thoughts to another person. 
> 
> Maybe it's because I like to think to myself more than I like to tell people about my thoughts and feelings?
> 
> Anyways, there is a huge hurricane/tropical storm/tornado going on rn where I live. Which is really strange since I live in New England. Like it feels weird. We are probably gonna lose power. That is going to be fun : / 
> 
> Hope You Enjoy The Read!!

His whole life, Mega, had never wanted to be loud. 

He had always been silent, not even sure if he could talk, and after all these years it didn’t matter anyways, because he did not know how to. 

The silence did not overwhelm him, no, he quite enjoyed the silence, the noise however, noise did overwhelm him. Whether it was loud music, or yelling, or a movie, Mega hated noise. 

**The Silence is Killing You.**

He figured that the Apocalypse would be no different. He hated the sirens that went off from the T.V when It was first announced, he hated the police cars that rushed past his house, he hated the loud running and screaming he heard from his neighbors. He hated all of the noise. All of it. 

**The Silence is Killing You.**

The screams. 

The screams were what changed his mind. 

On that Sunday, the day that it happened, he saw one. He saw it when he opened his door. He wanted to check if the coast was clear, he wanted to drive his car, to speed out of his town. Out to somewhere else. 

The coast wasn’t clear. There was one behind his neighbor. 

His neighbor, Cindy, she had always been nice to him. He was just 18 when he had moved into that house. She helped him. Even if he couldn’t say thank you. She helped him. 

His neighbor, Cindy, died. She died because he couldn’t shout out to her. She would have survived if he said something. If he said anything. 

But, now her screams lived in his brain. Forever. They - they wouldn’t go away. 

**The Silence is Killing You.**

He would not say that he liked the silence, but he would not say he disliked it either. One thing was for sure, he disliked noise. 

He still heard her screams. 

**The Silence is Killing You.**

He spent weeks walking through deserted towns. It was silent. 

He walked into unlocked houses and stayed the night, he walked through kitchens and rummaged through them. He picked up a lot of food. He sometimes found a hat or pair of jeans that he kept, but he tried not to rummage too much through personal belongings. It didn’t seem right. 

He didn’t get bored. He found books, and games, and diaries, and he kept himself busy. Many people in his position would be bored out of their mind. But not him. There was so much to unpack in the back of his mind, and he never minded being alone.  
Thinking was one of his favorite past times. 

**The Silence is Killing You.**

He had seen many of the monsters that have caused the world to be in such a state. He had seen the monsters that nearly ended humanity - he often wondered if he was the only one left, but he knew he couldn’t be, he knew the probability, there had to be someone else, there just had to be - but he had never fought one.

He always saw them before they saw him. The thing was, they never saw him though. He would sneak away, being almost completely silent. And although, there was a voice in the back of his head that told him that the silence was killing him, that he would kill to hear his friends' shouts and laughs again, he reminded himself in the forefront of his mind that his silence was keeping him alive. That he would’ve died without it. 

**The Silence is Killing You.**

He went months without seeing another person. He heard nothing, it was as though he went deaf. 

Sometimes, he silently taped on his leg in morse code. Anything to fill the empty air. Morse code was something he learnt in summer camp years ago, he didn’t practice often, but he knew the basics. 

“. ...- . .-. -.-- - .... .. -. --. / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / -... . / --- -.- .- -.-- .-.-.- / - .... .. -. -.- / --- ..-. / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ..-. .-. .. . -. -.. ... --..-- / -.-- --- ..- / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / ... . . / - .... . -- / .- --. .- .. -. / .. / .--. .-. --- -- .. ... . / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.- / -.-- --- ..- / .-- .. .-.. .-.. .-.-.-” Silently ingrained onto his leg. He would tell himself stories, and talk to himself, and silently laugh. 

**The Silence is Killing You.**

The thing about the silence though, was that in it, he could hear his neighbors’ screams. 

**The Silence is Killing You.**

He didn't sleep well. In his nightmares were flashes of his neighbor dying, and his regret for not being able to help. 

Her death was on him. Her blood was on his hands. Mega couldn't get away from the nightmares. 

**The Silence is Killing You.**

About a month into the worlds’ end, the tap water stopped working. In each house it was different, in some of them the water just shut off, and in others a green gunk would come out. In other words, Mega either needed bottled water, or he needed a stream. 

In the odd occurrence that he could not find a bottle, he would listen for the quiet movement of water. Ever moving and flowing, it would make a quiet sound even from miles away. When he found one, he slept there. The noise would ease his nightmares. The sound filled the air. The ever so slight movement of water created a safe space. A space away from the deafening silence, away from the wastelands. 

**The Silence is Killing You.**

Slowly, but surely, Mega learned to hate the silence. 

It screamed at him. Taunted him. 

All of the things that he should’ve done. All of the things he should’ve said. It made him want to pull his hair out. 

He had recently started falling asleep with his hands over his ears, as if it would’ve stopped the screams from entering his nightmares. As if it would’ve made the silence quieter. 

**The Silence is Killing You.**

He had to get away from it. He was going insane. Without his friends to fill the silence in his head. Without anyone to pack the air with their laughter or banter, the silence was so heavy, Mega felt as though he couldn’t move. 

**The Silence is Killing You.**

He was stuck. 

**The Silence is Killing You.**

The silence was taking over. 

There was too much of it. There was too much. 

**The Silence is Killing You.**

He never had a problem with silence, but maybe the silence had a problem with him. 

**The Silence is Killing You.**

The problems weren't engrained in the fact that there was no noise. It was in the noise his mind filled the silence with. 

When the air was empty, he had to fill it somehow. 

**The Silence is Killing You.**

“.... . .-.. .--. .-.-.- / .... . .-.. .--. .-.-.- / .... . .-.. .--. .-.-.- / ... --- ... .-.-.- / - --- --- / -- ..- -.-. .... .-.-.- / - --- --- / -- ..- -.-. .... .-.-.-” 

He tapped rapidly on his thigh. On his arm. On any surface. 

Too much. Too much. 

Too little. 

**The Silence.**

Mega stumbled ahead, he couldn’t see. The silence was too much. 

He couldn’t think. The silence was too much. 

He fell. He couldn’t move. The air was too little. 

**The Silence. Too much Silence.**

He looked up. There was something in the distance. 

A house. 

Were the lights on? 

**Stop The Silence. Too much Silence. Stop the -**

He staggered. He fell. He tripped. 

His mind was filled with the screams of his neighbors. 

With the footsteps of the monsters. 

Of the Sirens. 

Of Children wailing. 

Of too much. 

Too little. 

Too everything. 

Then Mega Heard it. 

**No more Silence. Too much Silence. Never Again.**

He heard laughing, he heard knocking, he heard someone being knocked to the ground, more laughter. 

He ran - mind suddenly becoming clear. He knew that laugh - he knew 

He ran as fast as he could. He stumbled and fell. He staggered - he ran. 

He had to get there - as fast as he could. He had to get rid of the silence. 

He ran. 

**The Silence Was No More.**

Mega knew one thing for sure, although he once enjoyed silence, right now, it was **killing him. Inside and Out.**

...

Bad and Skeppy heard rushed knocking at the door. As they headed over to it Bad gripped his knife close to his side and Skeppy held a lead pipe, but when they opened it, they both immediately dropped their weapons.  
“Mega?”

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS WAS MY FAVORITE THING TO WRITE HAHAHAH 
> 
> sorry, I have been so delirious today, because of the storm. We don't get rain too often around here. 
> 
> Tell me what you think in the comments. I think that this was a really cool and fun way to write Mega. I've literally watched like one of his videos, so please give me criticism. 
> 
> Still listening to Saline Solution on repeat. It's my favorite song like ahhhhhhhh. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, I will respond to all of your comments down below because I have nothing better to do. Plus, I really love them.


	10. SapNap, There Is a Point.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, throughout the repetitive, monotonous days, SapNap wonders what the point is. And maybe, at the end of the day, he realizes that the point is right in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Guys for not Updating! 
> 
> The night after the storm, my mom and dad forced me to spend time with my family. (Lol, they didn't actually force me, although sometimes they have to force me out of my bedroom. I guess that is introvert problems for you . ) 
> 
> And then on Thursday, the power was shut off on my street so that they could pick up the tree's that had fallen down during the storm. So, I sequentially had no wifi to use my laptop. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I enjoyed writing SapNap. 
> 
> See you at the end!

**There is No Point.**

He woke up. Nothing was different than the day before. Besides the actual Date, the days spent in the quiet school building were repetitive, and monotonous. Daily life to SapNap was tedious. 

**There is No Point.**

He brushed his teeth using old toothpaste, a newly opened, school provided toothbrush, and water from a Highland Spring water bottle. Tap water turned to mush months ago. They reused every plastic water bottle they found. 

He shaved his beard with a razor he found in the ‘nurse's office’ , now an out of use room, that George had raided for medicine. 

He put on the same clothes that he wore yesterday. As Dream, George, and SapNap had not brought many clothing options, they often wore the same outfit multiple days in a row. The only other options were high-school sized gym clothes, that Dream was seemingly too tall to fit into. It was okay though, they were alive, and although the days seemed wearisome, he had his friends. And whilst SapNap was _so very tired_ his friends had to be his reason right? There had to be a point. 

**There is No Point.**

SapNap grew tired throughout breakfast, he had only been up for an hour or so, and he was already _so very tired_. 

He loved the oatmeal that George served him everyday, but SapNap grew tired of oatmeal, after a while, it just became mush. 

SapNap laughed with his friends easily. They made jokes and even screamed at each other at the breakfast table. He doubled over with laughter, and cried from laughing so hard. His friends made the days less mind-numbing. Less, boresome. They made it worth it. 

**There is No Point.**

He headed outside, as he did every other morning right after breakfast. He went out with his metal baseball bat in search of monsters. He did not mind this part, as he got to take out his worthless rage on these mindless monsters. 

Not to mention that whenever he pounded the skull of one of those mindless creatures, he felt a small piece of victory swell inside of his chest. He felt as though he was avenging his friends and family who lost their lives to these beats. 

He felt powerful, which is much more important to him now, than it ever was before. 

Before that sunday when the demons took over the earth, he never felt the need to harness power. He never felt the need to be in control. But throughout the end of the world, he had unknowingly given up the control of his life; and when he hit those monsters hard enough, he felt the power come back to him briefly. 

**There is No Point.**

Often his morning walks and patrols were filled with existential thought. 

SapNap never meant to go deep into his mind, but he absently led his own thoughts to the state of humanity almost every time. 

He thought of his best friends from back home, and his family that he will never see again. He thought of his neighbors, and all of the dogs he had seen walking through his cul de sac. He thought about America, and how he would never get to meet Bad in person, or see his house again. 

But more interestingly, he thought about the future of the world, and if there were even a point in him standing here today. He reasoned, that if generation z was the last generation to walk the earth, then what was the point. If no one would be there to tell his story, or to carry out his last name, then why did it matter if he was there or not? He presumed that oblivion was inevitable, but he assumed that he would be dead long before he saw it. 

He assumed wrong. And, at the end of his morning walk he was _just too tired_ to care. 

**There is No Point.**

When he returned to the school campus, the three (SapNap, Dream, and George) had been calling their home, he first washed his hands of the blood. He didn’t feel bad at this point, of course, he hated killing, but again, the rush of control and revenge for his loved ones, made it worth it. 

He then took off his shoes, because it was early fall in the UK, and if there was anything SapNap learned about the UK was that the weather never changed. Making each day even more monotonous than the last. Another thing that stayed consistent within the days was the rain, making the forest floor almost always muddy. 

He then laid down for a brief nap. He did not know how long he would sleep, it didn’t matter to SapNap though, because he knew that he would wake up before lunch, and that, that day just as mundane as the last, was tiresome. He was _so very tired_ and to make that day differ a small bit from every other day of the last months, he would take a nap. 

**There is No Point.**

SapNap often dreamt of a world that was normal, without the stupid, careless, and moralless, monsters that plagued his earth. But, alas, when he awoke that afternoon to the smell of sandwiches in the kitchen a hallway or two away from him, he knew that the dream was not real. 

And, that he was stuck in the sucky version of his reality. 

Sadly, even after his nap, SapNap was, _so very tired._

**There is No Point.**

That day, when he had lunch, it was just him and Geogre as it was most days. While SapNap walked through in the early morning, Dream often walked the woods in the afternoon. Neither of them liked going out at night, so both of them went out in the day. It was fine for them. 

The three boys quite liked spending time together in the evening, so the schedule that they had silently put into place worked for the trio.

SapNap helped George with the dishes while making idle conversation. He knew that George could tell SapNap was feeling off. He did not push it, like normal, George was good at reading feelings, even if he did not know his own, George could tell SapNap did not want to talk about whatever was bothering him. SapNap was eternally grateful. 

**There is No Point.**

SapNap was not blind to the nagging thoughts in the back of his mind. He often knew his feelings long before he fully felt them, and took the time to feel everything he wanted to. 

SapNap was incredibly attuned to his own mind, and that day was no exception. 

Although he often got lost in thought, and found himself spiraling into an existential crisis and into the void of oblivion, he felt at home in his mind. He felt safe. _He felt tired._

**There is No Point.**

He knew completely of the reoccurring thought that he had every monotonous day in and unchanging day out. 

He knew that he felt as though the world was crumbling through his fingertips. 

He felt the control tumble out of his own hands, and fall into the hands of whatever monster plagued his mind and the forest this week. 

He knew that he felt that there was no point in living, breathing, and awakening to another day. 

But, he also knew the dread he felt when thinking about death. He knew of the fear he felt when he saw an empty-headed creature venture onto their land. He knew the fondness he felt over the two boys he called his best friends. 

He knew that he couldn’t leave. 

**There is No Point. Well, maybe.**

SapNap found himself sitting atop the roof of the school building that night. Usually, he would sit with Dream and George atop the computer lab roof, which was the shortest of the buildings. It was hidden from the outside world, walls taller than the roof itself blocking the rooftop from the forest around the school building. But, that night, he sat on top of the main building, the tallest of the bunch so that he could see a view of the city. 

He thought through all of the pondering, returning, and vanishing thoughts that had been cycling through his head, and allowed himself time to think. 

He thought all of his feelings through, and although completely valid, he worked through them silently. 

They would not go away overnight, but he knew that his issues would be resolved eventually with the help of two of his best friends. 

**There is a Point.**

While SapNap may still be a bit depressed, and he may find himself falling into the void a few times a week, he knew that his reason, **his point** was right in front of him. 

…

When George had silently joined SapNap a couple hours later onto the roof, he had not expected to be harshly staring to the North of the school building. George had the worst eyesight of the trio, but he was sure he could make out two bodies on top of a far off barn roof. One more familiar than the other.  
“Hey SapNap,” George started gingerly, “I think I see Techno.” 

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS 
> 
> YOU'VE MADE IT 10 CHAPTERS 
> 
> woo hoo. 
> 
> I've never written anything this long. This story takes 50 pages in google docs, at 11 pt. font. I'm very proud. 
> 
> Anyways, I found it interesting to write the story over one day. where usually each chapter takes place over multiple months. Not to mention, I found it very interesting to incorporate repetitive feelings (the italics) into this chapter instead of just repetitive thoughts. I find that I am most tired the says that I am feeling a bit depressed and useless. (Normal Teenage things lol). 
> 
> Good Night Yall. 
> 
> Tell me what you think down below, and I will see you Tomorrow with Zelks' chapter!
> 
> I've also been toying with the idea of a l'manburg au after this story, if you guys would like that please tell me.


	11. Zelk, Not Everything Sucks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelk almost always had a negative outlook on life, and especially in the apocalypse this did not change, but maybe a little hope in the darkest of times would do him good. And maybe, this time, he can relish in the hope for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHATS UP 
> 
> 2 MORE CHAPTERS 
> 
> HOPE YOU ENJOY 
> 
> I meant to upload it yesterday, but I wanted to watch Wilbur instead, so I did. Ahaha Enjoy!  
> 
> 
> ...  
> I haven't watched much of Zelk at all, so tell me everything I did wrong in the comments lol

Zelk, like many other individuals on that Sunday, awoke to the sound of screaming. 

It was 2pm. He often slept in until 3 or 4pm. But, on that Sunday, he awoke to the sounds of his neighbors screaming, and crying, and bodies being thrown to the ground. 

He awoke to murder, which, in all honesty, was shit. 

**Everything Sucks.**

He stayed in his house. 

Not afraid for his life, but afraid of what he was going to see when he stepped outside. His mind already plagued him with intrusive and dark thoughts. He did not need to see what was outside, he did not need to add to his nightmares. 

He stayed there for days, weeks, probably a month or two, well, Zelk stayed in place until he ran out of food. 

**Everything Sucks.**

5 days into that mess, 5 days after that Sunday, the power went out. No more T.V, no more charging his phone, Zelk couldn’t use his computer. 

He assumed that without the people maintaining the electric companies, it made sense. But, nonetheless, it still sucked.

 **Everything Sucks.**

About a week or two into that mess, 2 weeks after that Sunday to the date, the tap water stopped running. No more showers, no more tap water, no more washing machine. 

He assumed it was because nobody was there to regulate the water and the reservoirs, which he knew, made sense, but it still sucked. 

**Everything Sucks.**

With his water turned to mush, and no refrigerator, Zelk had to leave his house sooner or later. He, of course, like the sane person he was, stayed inside and away from the terrors outside. He tried his best to conserve the canned food and water bottles, but there were only so many items in his pantry, especially because he did not expect the world to end. 

But alas, he ran out eventually, and he had to venture outside of his little home. His safespace. He had to leave. 

**Everything Sucks.**

He walked to the nearest grocery store, figuring that had to be a few canned items left, he had a baseball bat, and a steak knife with him. He was unprepared. 

Once he got there, he looked through the barren shelfs, and found few usable items; it looked like he was not the only one who had come here. Once he filled his backpack to the brim with canned goods and water bottles, he had a startling realization, he could not go back.

Not only was it a bad idea to back trace, but he realized that he could not go back. There was only forward now. He could not stay stuck in that shack forever. There was only forward. 

**Everything Sucks.**

Once he started walking, he could not stop. It was addicting, something new to see everyday. Long, windy, and endless roads. Debris on the side of the road, the smell of a small river nearby, the new scenery. 

He had been in that house for so long, without wifi, without water, without electricity, all alone. 

He hadn’t realised up until this point how devastatingly lonely he was. 

He missed his friends. 

**Everything Sucks.**

He kicked cans on the side of the road. He knew that he shouldn’t make noise, but he couldn’t help it, he had to do something to ease his mind. He kicked everything in sight, that could not be of use to him. 

He used to collect lost items, but at that moment they made him angry. The people who those items belonged to, should still be alive. His parents, his friends, hsi neighbors, they should all still be alive. 

Without people, the world sucked. And, he guessed that it sucked with people too. 

**Everything Sucks.**

He hoped over gates and fences. Property lines did not bother him, and they had no control over him anyways. Everything that belonged to people was now his. Those people did not make it. It was not his fault. 

He found a stream every so often, filling up his water bottles. He would fish sometimes too, but it was hard to make a fire without being noticed. Noticed by whatever killed his friends and family. By those who would eventually kill him too. 

He would jump in through people's windows, although the doors were usually unlocked, the adrenaline rush helped him find the goods he was searching for faster. Zelk did not like staying in people's old houses for long. Even though he knew that those people were dead, and that they were not coming back, it plagued his mind to think about other families, and people who lived in those houses. Those people who were now dead. He guessed, that dying sucked. But, he also thought that maybe living wasn’t too great either. 

**Everything Sucks.**

A month or two into wandering, he found a picture of a family. 

He never went into the living rooms of the houses he raided. He only ever went in the kitchen, through the window usually, so that he did not have to go any further. 

This picture though, was the epitome of broken, and hopelessness. It was dirty, and the picture frame was cracked and broken. All of the faces were happy, but inside, Zelk felt the dread pooling in his stomach. This was a family. They were once alive and they lived in this town, in one of these houses. They were here. 

This was their home. 

He broke. 

**Everything Sucks.**

Before the Apocalypse, he thought everything sucked, but man, he thought, that, that before sucked much less. 

This really sucked. 

It sucked - it sucked so bad. 

**Everything Sucks.**

His mind was filled with the screams. It was filled with the monsters. It was filled with terrifyingly true images that plagued his nightmares. Life sucked. Life sucked. Life sucked. Everything and anything that Zelk could think of sucked. It sucked so much. 

**Everything Sucks.**

He kept moving forward though. 

His metal breakdown was not going to stop him from moving forward. 

He had to keep moving forward. 

**Everything Sucks.**

He heard something. 

Rustling in the trees. 

His heart stopped. 

**Everything Sucks.**

Was that it ? 

**Everything Sucks.**

Was Zelk going to die ? 

**Everything.**

He heard footsteps. Closer. 

**Sucks.**

Was that it ? 

He thought that everything sucked, but maybe he did not want to die yet, maybe .. he thought that things weren’t bad enough to die - he didn’t want to - he didn’t want to die - 

**Everything Stops.**

Two arms grabbed his trembling figure. They said nothing, whoever they - or it - was. 

Zelk looked up. It took a moment, especially because he did not want his mind to be plagued with monsters during his last moments alive, but nothing had happened. Whoever this was, was not doing anything. 

He knew that face. It looked so familiar - it was not going to hurt him - it was 

“Mega ?” 

…. 

When he looked into the face of his friend, he realised that maybe, not everything sucked, and maybe, just maybe, some things could become better. 

…. 

When Mega brought in another set of footsteps into the house, Skeppy was confused to say the least. 

Skeppy reached out to tap Bad, but it seemed he had already heard it as well. It wasn’t until he heard a deep voice that Skeppy understood, Mega had found another one of their long lost friends. 

“Skeppy ? Bad ?”

They both dropped what they were doing in shock “Zelk?”. 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god - I watched Tommy's stream for the first time live yesterday, (I've only ever watched the vods) and I was laughing SO hard. The bit with Wilbur when they were talking about his day was so good, when he 1 v 1'd Dream, it was great. And then, after, when he raided Tubbo and Dream asked him about his haircut - IT WAS SO WHOLESOME I WAS DYING.
> 
> I watched Tubbo's stream today, and when Tommy kept calling Tubbo by his real name, it reminded me like that they are, actually real life best friends and it made me unbelievably happy. 
> 
> Also, this is not the end of the american storyline. I don't know if I will officially end it in Tommy's chapter, or in Skeppy's but I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Please, tell me what you thought in the comments, and once again, have a good night !


	12. Phil, You Are Not Responsible.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil knew, deep down, that he didn't have to protect the boys the way he did. He knew that he didn't have to care for them like his younger brothers. He knew that he wasn't responsible for them. 
> 
> But, What if He Wanted to Be ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM BACK 
> 
> JUST READ IT

**You Are Not Responsible**

Phil always felt as though he had to take care of those around him. 

It was strange at first, when he was a teen, without any younger siblings, he felt the odd need to protect the young kids next door who were being bullied. He could've passed it off as him just having an impressive conscience or a great sense of morality, but deep down, he knew that wasn't the case. 

When he was in highschool, all of the freshmen looked up to him. It made Phil feel whole to know that the younger grades felt safe around him. He would help the new kids get to their classes, he would protect them from bullies, and he would tutor them in their hardest classes. The teachers simply told him that he was a great role model and a natural leader, but Phil knew that wasn't the case, he just had an innate instinct to protect and mentor those younger and more naive than him. 

Simply put, Phil was born to be a great older brother.

**You Are Not Responsible**

Phil tried extremely hard to not be nurturing and protective in that way around his friends. 

It was never a problem around his friends who were similar in age and life stage to him, it was just an issue when it came to Wilbur, Techno, and Tommy.

It wasn't his fault that he was extremely close to the three boys. It wasn't his fault that they had built a perfect dynamic and friendship that allowed each of them to share their deepest darkest secrets. It wasn't his fault that he made the three boys feel safe, or that Wil opened up to Phil about his insecurities, or that Techno told Phil about his terrible anxiety problems, or that Tommy always seemed to come to Phil for advice. Phil just put out a safe and nurturing aura, he couldn't help it. 

He kept himself from acting on his parental-like instincts. The little voice in his head that told him to ask how Tommy was doing in school constantly, that told him to destroy anyone who made Wilbur insecure, to repeatedly ask Techno if he had eaten anything that day. It would be weird right? 

He knew that he felt this way because each of the boys were considerably younger than Phil. When the 4 had met, Wilbur was 21, Techno was 19, and Tommy was barely 15, with Phil being 30 himself, he felt the innate need to take care of the friends, he would even call his brothers. 

**You Are Not Responsible**

He didn’t try as hard to hide his instincts when it came to Tommy, since the other two boys would often treat the boy as a younger brother they needed to protect as well. Phil was only ever that way around the bright blonde though, he wouldn't let himself act in the same manner around the other boys, he means, they are adults, that would be weird, right? 

He slowly started to let his guard drop, acting more caring, and brotherly around all 3 boys. Maybe it was due to Phil himself becoming overwhelmingly comfortable around the 3, or maybe it was the one too many drunk messages from Wilbur stating, “Come pick me up Dad. I don’t know where I am. I can’t drive.”, or maybe it was after the multiple times that Techno asked Phil to help him with his college math (on a different note, the 3 boys were always amazed with how good Phil was with math - what kind of gamer is that good at advanced trig?) that Phil realised that the 3 boys looked up to him as an older brother figure. 

**You Are Not Responsible**

Here he was, months later, with the blonde boy in his lap, fast asleep. Wilbur, who was also deep in sleep although it was only 7 or 8pm, was nestled right beside Tommy adamant to stay with the boy at all times. When he thought about it, he guessed that Wilbur was the closest to Tommy out of the three, he was on Dream’s SMP with the boy, he knew Tommy’s best friend, Tubbo, Wilbur introduced Tommy to Schlatt, Tommy’s childhood hero, (which was funny because now, well, before this happened, Schlatt and Tommy were awfully close, and could often be found in a call together, Wilbur had told Phil that Schlatt had grown fond of the boy without even knowing it.)

It made sense really, Wilbur spent the most time with Tommy. He also introduced Phil and Techno to the blonde, something that Phil was indebtedly grateful for. 

Phil combed his fingers through Tommy’s golden blonde hair. It was unruly and extremely long, without it being cared for in months. Yesterday, Tommy had his first bath since he left his home 8 months ago. He looked like a new boy, the dirt off his face showing his crystal blue eyes, the gunk in his hair shampooed out, the matted tangles brushed out. He resembled himself much more, than he did when they first found him. 

He was asleep when they did all of this, of course. His body was too tired and sore to do the upkeep himself. He had fainted the moment he saw them, but Techno had grabbed him before his head collided with the floor. 

It was a pure miracle really, that they had found Tommy. He had been traveling for months across the UK, and the three of them had pretty much stayed in the same place, so there was a good chance of him finding them, but in the current state that he was in, Phil wasn’t sure he would’ve lasted much longer. 

The boy had woken up for about an hour last night, probably around 2 or 3 am, which was when the 3 men learnt that the boy had been alone for so long. That he had been traveling, and that he had been looking for other survivors. They gave him a quick meal, nothing too much. 

Phil was worried that the boy wouldn’t have been able to keep it down. He was small. Smaller than a kid his age ever should be. It didn’t help with how tall he was, Tommy was already taller than Phil, and he was sure that if he had been eating properly those last few months, he could’ve been as tall as Wilbur, but the height showed how extremely under-fed Tommy truly was. 

The blue-eyed boy was extremely and unhealthily thin, clearly malnourished, Phil could count his ribs, in fact they were slightly poking at him while Tommy was resting in his lap, but he would never move him. Phil imagined that this was the first restful sleep Tommy has gotten in months. 

Phil eyes watered - he should’ve looked for Tommy. He felt personally responsible for the teen. 

**You Are Not Responsible**

When Techno spotted a random teen outside their base, Phil thought that it was odd. He means, they haven’t seen anyone in months, and it was a young boy. They had guessed he was 13 or 14, he was very small, but extremely tall. Wilbur had stated that he had been around 6’2 or 6’3 when he was 14, so it could be someone that young. The frantic look in the boys eyes, and scared demeanor reminded them nothing of their friend. Not to mention the dirt. 

His face, and bare arms were covered in dirt. His hair was a light brown instead of it’s usual blonde. If it wasn’t for his voice, they would’ve never recognized him. 

The feeling that Phil felt when Tommy spoke to him, he couldn’t describe. 

It was that of relief, and worry, and love, and pain, and happiness. They were all unbelievably happy to see their friend again, but also scared for him. He was alone. All alone. 

Phil’s heart clenched - he felt responsible for not finding Tommy sooner. He guesses that he had been in the area for a while. It must’ve taken a while for him to get around, with how slow he was moving. 

**You Are Not Responsible**

Techno must’ve been somewhere in the room with them, but the sun had fallen behind the mountains, and there was only one small light on in the room. Phil wanted to make sure that Tommy could sleep well. And, well, Phil didn’t particularly feel like looking away from the sleeping boy. 

He looked so peaceful, face only moving ever so slightly to bury himself into Phil’s lap more - 

Phil stopped breathing. This kid must miss his parents, his friends, everyone. 

Where were his parents - 

He felt a silent tear fall down his face. He could’ve been there for Tommy. 

**You Are Not Responsible**

“Hey - You’re not responsible for him. You know that right?” Techno’s voice cut through the air. 

Phil finally looked up, saw the pink haired man who was sitting against the wall. His eyes looked tired, but that was normal for Techno, his hand was fiddling with a ring that some friend had got him years ago. His foot, in its boot, was kicked out, with the other leg up against his chest. He was looking directly at Phil, with a smile playing at his lips. Even Techno couldn’t hide his smile from the boy. 

“I know.” Phil grunted silently, praying to any god that Tommy would stay asleep, because God knows he needs it. 

“You couldn’t have helped him. We thought he was dead. He took care of himself Phil.” Techno ranted on, listing reasons on his fingers. 

“I know,” Phil mumbled a bit louder this time. His hands continued to comb through the blonde mess, but his eyes were now fixated on Wilbur who had moved ever so slightly towards Phil. 

“You don’t have to take care of us either. You seem to do that a lot. We are adults Phil, we can look after ourselves, and Tommy for that matter.” He stated, in his usual monotone voice. 

“I know.” Phil said even louder this time, “But what if I want to?” 

“What -” Techno looks taken aback. 

“If watching over you, and Wilbur, and Tommy makes me happy, then I will. If seeing you safe and happy makes my life have a purpose, then I will continue to do it.” Phil stated matter o’ factly. 

“Phil-” The brown-eyed boy started. 

“Look. All of the time that I’ve known you three, all I’ve wanted is for you guys to be safe, and happy, and successful. I will do everything in my power to do that. It makes me happy. Looking out for you guys gives my life a purpose, and I am so glad that I can. And as long as I can, I will.” 

“I - okay.” Techno stated, defeated.

**You Are Not Responsible**

Later that night when Techno fell asleep on the other side of Phil, as he listened to the soft breathing of his three best friends - no, three brothers, he knew that he would be okay. 

**Phil knew that he didn't have to take care of his friends. He knew he didn’t have to be responsible for his younger brothers - but, hey. What if he wanted to?**

… 

Later that night, when Tommy rushidly awoke - from what Phil assumed was a nightmare - he choked on his own breath frantically looking around at the other boys, confused. 

“Hey - hey, Tommy it’s me, I’m here, it’s okay.” Phil had placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, bringing the boy close to his chest. Unknowingly, he repeated a move that Tommy’s father used to do when the boy had nightmares. 

“Dad? I thought - I thought you were dead. I - I watched you die.” Tommy stuttered, out of breath. 

Phil stopped breathing. What had this boy seen? 

“It’s okay Tommy. Nothing is going to hurt you.” Phil repeated, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“M’kay Dad. I believe you.” Tommy slowly fell back asleep. 

But Phil was wide awake. 

He wished he could help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY guys, it's been a while. 
> 
> I didn't want to write this because I had writers block.  
> Then I planned out another 10 chpater fanfic.  
> Then I wrote a bunch of other stuff.  
> And now, I'm here. 
> 
> Uh - if you have any questions about what I've been doing, or what I am going to be doing/writing once this story is done, please ask and I will let you know! 
> 
> Some Announcements:  
> I have a Tumblr, that is now that same handle as this account, so @Lillian-Nator . I post behind the scene stuff there, and just my general thoughts and memes about MCYT.  
> This is the playlist I write (this is home) to. It isn't as sad, as you would think: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/14vyshAY1Jp0L1lNH6ct44?si=zBwT2RKpT2i8Mo-JuUSQIg  
> If you haven't read it, I have a One-Shot based off of Tubbo and Tommy meeting, from Techno's chapter. It's in Tubbo's P.O.V and you'll like it. It's called "Being Scared Can Be Being Brave" I suggest it. It is already up.  
> I will be finishing this story this week, scary I know. 
> 
> I will be doing my chapter analysis in the comments, please analyze it yourself if you want (I always love to see that kind of stuff), and tell me what you think down below. I really hope that you enjoyed Sorry for making you wait this long. See you soon!


	13. Skeppy, You Are Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without his voice Skeppy felt useless, like a waste of space, like nothing. 
> 
> That was until someone reassured him that he was in fact something, anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh long time no see. 
> 
> The last chapter will be out in way less time than it took to write this chapter, in all honesty, I procrastinated this chapter because I'm not a big Skeppy fan, so I just didn't want to write it lol. 
> 
> this is exactly 1,400 words. You're welcome. I hope you enjoy!

**You Are Nothing.**

Skeppy felt worthless. More than worthless - Skeppy felt like nothing. 

**You Are Nothing.**

He couldn’t talk. He couldn’t make jokes. He couldn’t do any of that. 

He was nothing. 

**You Are Nothing.**

Skeppy started feeling this way when Bad used to ask for his input on things. That was about 7 weeks into Bad staying with him, at his parents house. Skeppy couldn’t answer, he wanted to scream, shout, cry, anything that wasn’t silence. 

“Skeppy, what do you think about Potatoes for dinner?” Bad would say. 

He would always open his mouth, as if words were ever going to come out, as if anything could be heard. After a second of struggling, trying to make a noise, any noise, he would slowly nod his head, as he wiped away nonexistent tears. 

**You Are Nothing.**

He felt that way when he couldn’t make a joke. 

He would give his life over and over again to hear Bad laugh at one of his jokes again. He would give up everything he owned and more to hear Bad shout language at Skeppy one more time. 

He felt as though a part of him had been stripped away - an important part. Speaking, and telling jokes, and shouting, and making people laugh; it was part of his identity. He didn’t know who he was without his voice, and honestly, he really didn’t want to find out. 

Honestly, he felt alone. Even with Bad right next to him, he felt lonely, and he couldn’t figure out why. 

Everything was so, so wrong. It was flipped up on their head. He reminisced about the long nights he used to spend talking to Bad, when they sat on call for hours and hours on end, ranting about their days. 

He felt like he lost himself without a voice. 

He felt like nothing. 

**You Are Nothing.**

As the weeks went on, he felt worthless, useless. 

He felt like nothing. 

**You Are Nothing.**

He didn’t get out of bed anymore. He would stay under the covers for hours and hours at a time. He didn’t feel like moving, or getting up, or attempting to talk. In those moments, he didn’t feel like existing. 

It was simple really, he wasn’t sure why, but he had lost his will to do basically anything. 

He didn’t want to eat, or watch a movie, or read a book, or spend time with Bad, he wanted - 

Well, he didn’t really want anymore. 

**You Are Nothing.**

Skeppy felt himself sinking into a blackhole with no return. Into a dark void of space where time is irrelevant and a clear lack of reason. He spent hours staring at the same wall when it felt like minutes, seconds even. He would wake up at strange hours, falling asleep in the middle of the day, and waking up at 2 or 3 am. He spent most of his time asleep. He felt himself wanting to fall slowly out of existence as he was forgotten about and swallowed into a hole. A hole in the depths of the earth. The hole was a blanket of deep darkness that seemed to possess his entire spirit. 

He had no choice in what he did anymore. His body was moving on it’s own, as his mind was filled to the brim with cotton. He couldn’t think - he couldn’t. 

It hurt to think. He couldn’t say what he wanted out loud, and his mind was plagued with disgusting, and evil intrusive thoughts. That he was worthless, and nothing, and a nuisance to his friend. 

**You Are Nothing.**

He began to get used to the feeling. The feeling of being nothing - of being worthless without his voice. 

He suddenly felt nothing. 

He knew there was a pang in his chest, and that his stomach was empty, and that his head would pound everytime he woke up, but he didn’t feel it. 

He felt empty. 

**You Are Nothing.**

It was the third day in a row where he didn’t leave his room. 

That’s when Bad confronted him. “Look,” He had said from the other side of Skeppy’s door. 

“Look. I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, but you have to talk to me Skeppy.” If he could, Skeppy would’ve laughed. But - he felt nothing. 

With a huff, Skeppy went to open his door, but something stopped himself. He had every intention of facing Bad, but he couldn’t. He just stood at the door, his hand halfway to the handle. 

“I can’t stand watching you tear yourself apart - what is going on in your head Skeppy?” Bad’s voice wavered. 

A tear fell down Skeppy’s face, but he felt nothing - he felt empty.

He felt worthless, and stupid, and dumb, and a waste of space, and like nothing. 

“I can’t keep letting you do this to yourself, Skep. You gotta let me help you - you must be dehydrated and malnourished. Please - let me help you.” Bad’s voice broke, a choke was followed shortly after. 

Although his body was screaming at him not to, Skeppy threw the door open. If there was one thing that could get him out of this stupor, it was hurting Bad. 

The slightly smaller male looked up at Bad, who’s hand was in his hair and tears were running rapidly down his face. Bad looked down on his friend, who was clearly in so much pain, that he couldn’t even register it. 

“Oh,” He stopped to throw his hands around the smaller man, “Oh, Skep.” 

Skeppy just stood there for a second not sure whether to leave, or bury himself deeper into the hug. 

“Hey,” Bad whispered softly into Skeppy’s ear, “It’s going to be okay.” 

Bury. Bury. 

Skeppy buried his head deeper into the crook of Bad’s neck while he silently sobed letting emotions out that he didn’t know he had. It was quieter than he expected, he could barely make out faint breathing and choking - but otherwise it was silent. It scared him, but he couldn’t stop it. 

“Hey, no, really.” Bad continued, using one hand to hold Skeppy, and the other to brush through his hair. “It’s going to be alright Skep.” 

Maybe. Maybe it would be okay. 

**You Are _not_ Nothing. **

When Mega came, that helped. 

Skeppy could finally communicate with someone, and it helped him feel less alone. 

Small faint knocks could be heard throughout the house at all times, filling up the everlasting silence that seemed to haunt Skeppy - he wanted so badly to fill it, to scream, to yell out to the world. He was okay though - 

On really bad days, he would lay with Bad, just doing nothing while the older assured Skeppy that he was more than his voice. On okay days, he and Mega would teach Bad morse code so that they could have easier communication. On good days, Skeppy would play charades for hours, mapping out his life to his best friends. 

It helped to know that he wasn’t alone, that someone else could fill the silence for him. 

**You Are Something, Anything.**

When Zelk showed up, everything came into place. 

Bad would get less frustrated by not being able to understand the two, as Zelk was able to communicate. In fact, Zelk could even translate morse code, so no one felt left out. 

Zelk helped fill the silence as well, with his sharp banter and loud laughter, it helped Skeppy a lot, and he can tell that it helped Mega in some way too. 

They all spent every moment together, relishing in the fact that they were not alone, and that while, life was shit, it was a shit life worth living. 

Skeppy never had a eureka moment, he slowly but surely escaped from the grasp of that black hole that kept sucking him in. He still had his bad days, he still had doubts, but those were overpowered by the good days, and laughs with his friends. Sure, he thought, maybe he was better with his voice, but he knew he wasn’t worthless. At least, not totally. 

Skeppy knew that **he was worth something** , if even a small fraction of what he was before. But, if he knew one thing, it was that his new family meant the world to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit shorter, because, I didn't want to write more lol. 
> 
> I'm so fucking excited to write Tommy's chapter, and effectively wrap up (this is home). If you haven't I suggest checking out my "You Said Family Went To War" series. It is based off of the L'Manberg war, but it dives deep into Sleepy Boi, and Dteam Family Dynamics, and is now getting a few post-election one shots. It is a 9 or 10 one-shot series, with a 10 chapter work that I will start updating soon. You'll like it, trust me. That and I have the "Being Scared Can Still Be Being Brave" one-shot which is a direct one shot from when Tommy and Tubbo met up in Techno's chapter. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you liked the chapter, please leave any comments you have down below, and I will see you in a few days!


	14. Tommy, You Will Be Okay.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Tommy feels things, a lot of things. 
> 
> But it's okay, he is okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, a bit bittersweet to say the least. 
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoy the ladt chapter :)

**You Will Be Okay.**

Tommy woke up in a rush. His eyes quickly flew open the second he gained consciousness, his mind flooding with immediate thoughts, such as, what day it was, how he was feeling, and if he had any nightmares that night. 

He used to wake up slowly. 

It was one of his favorite things to do. Slowly gaining awareness of the bed below him, the pillows holding his head up, the blankets wrapped loosely around his body. He used to struggle to get out of bed, back when he woke up slowly. He relished in it, wanting to stay under the covers for as long as he could. He didn’t want to go to school, he didn’t even want to edit, he wanted to sleep. 

Then - when _it_ happened, sleep became scarce, it became a luxury. 

The fear kept him half-awake most nights. His anxiety woke him up at the slightest noise. Tommy was convinced he was still alive due to the fact he was a light sleeper. 

But, he missed waking up slowly. 

His anxiety had gotten better since he found Phil, Wilbur, and Techno - but the waking up? It still happened quickly. He wasn’t sure that would ever change. 

He ran over the questions again; what day was it; how was he feeling; and did he have any nightmares? 

It was Saturday. 

Saturdays are okay days. 

He didn’t think he had any nightmares - he couldn't remember any of them anyways, which meant they didn’t matter. 

That was good, that was an improvement. 

How was he feeling? 

That was a more difficult question. 

He felt slightly nauseous, but nothing out of the ordinary. He could feel his hair sticking to his forehead - he was sweaty, really sweaty. He couldn’t be sure if he had a fever though, he would have to wait for Phil or Techno to check later. He was hot, insanely hot. He was hot in every place on his body - but again, that was normal. He honestly didn’t mind being hot, he used to be cold, so, so cold. 

Recovering was hard. He wasn’t sure what he was recovering from, but Techno had told him that he was sick, that he needed to take these strange meds, but he was gonna be okay. 

Tommy wasn’t sure at first. To be honest, he was so sure of himself that he was gonna die. He had made peace with it, he had had one last night with Tubbo (he actually had told Tubbo that he was sure that he was gonna die. He had told Tubbo that he loved him, and that he was sorry. He had told Tubbo his goodbyes. But - he had continously messaged Tubbo updates, and they were both painfully optimistic.) and he was ready. But, the end never came, and after a few weeks of deteriorating, Tommy started to get better. 

Sure, his bones ached every time he moved, but his breathing became easier, he could walk without collapsing, and he could easily make his way around the small area of the base he stayed in. 

He suddenly wanted to move around; he was awake, so it was time to get up. Tommy turned over slightly - but he suddenly felt himself getting pulled closer to something [someone]. 

Wilbur. 

The older man - the guy who _really was like his older brother_ \- had been sleeping next to him ever since he showed up at the base. Tommy would call him clingy if it wasn’t for the fact he needed Wil there as much as he did. 

Wilbur was always there when Tommy had a nightmare, or when he felt like he was gonna throw up - or just when he needed him. 

Tommy felt Wilbur’s even breathing as the taller brunette held Tommy close. The small vibrations that Tommy could feel from Wilbur’s chest was luring him slowly back to sleep. The blonde knew it was early, and it was warm, really warm. Even if he was already hot, too hot, he couldn’t push away the large amount of comfort he felt as he buried his head into Wilbur’s chest. 

He let out a small, and silent sigh. Closing his eyes once more. 

If Wilbur wanted him to stay, he would. His body could handle another hour or two of sleep. 

Tommy felt warm. 

**You Will Be Okay.**

A hand pushed a bowl of Wheaties in front of him. 

He gave a small, shy, smile to the owner of the hand - Phil. 

Tommy slowly picked up the spoon, unsure if he would be able to keep the cereal down or not. After sleeping the extra two hours, and feeling mildly nauseous, he wasn’t sure if this would be a bad day for his eating habits. 

He often noted that while he was getting better, it was at a slow pace, and some days, he may not be able to keep a meal down, while other days he could jump around the house, easily keeping up with Wilbur as they talked. 

After receiving an encouraging smile from Phil, who was still at the counter, fixing himself a bowl of cereal, Tommy shoved the spoon into his mouth - slightly wincing as his palet got used to the taste of condensed milk. After a few more spoons, he found himself getting used to it, slowly, and silently, working his way through the breakfast. 

Tommy gave Phil a barely-noticeable nod, to show that he was alright. That this morning was okay. 

Phil tried to hide it, but Tommy could see the relieved smile on his face. Tommy knew that Phil constantly worried about the blonde’s weight, and how little Tommy usually ate. Tommy knew that he needed more nutrition - he knew that he should be eating twice the amount he does for a boy his age, but honestly, Tommy didn’t worry too much. He never went hungry, and this way, he didn’t use up more food than necessary. He was silently glad he didn’t have the appetite of a normal teenage boy, or he was sure that his three friends wouldn’t be able to get enough food for the four of them. 

The floor squeaked as Tommy looked up from his bowl to see the tall figure sitting down across from him. Wilbur silently slid Tommy a water bottle across the table, as Tommy finished chewing his most recent bite of Wheaties. The brunette didn’t even try to hide his bright smile as Tommy happily took the water bottle, and started drinking. 

If Phil was mildly worried about Tommy’s eating habits, Wilbur was heavily concerned about Tommy’s hydration. 

Sure, hydration was more important than eating. And sure, Tommy had fainted a few times from dehydration - but only on the days where he couldn’t drink anything without puking, any other day, he happily obliged and gave Wilbur the satisfaction of him drinking a couple of bottles - in front of Wilbur, but Tommy really didn’t want Wilbur to worry. 

Nonetheless, Tommy smiled as Wilbur kicked his legs under the table. 

Wilbur grinned as Tommy kicked back. 

Tommy laughed as Wilbur made an exaggerated disgusted face at the condensed milk. 

Tommy felt alright. 

**You Will Be Okay.**

Tommy jumped over the back of the large beige couch that took up most of the space in the main room. He tediously sat down as he glanced at Techno across the room. 

The pink-haired male was giving Tommy a silent - yet harsh - glare, that said: “Don’t jump over the couch again before I break your limbs myself.” 

Tommy knew he shouldn't exert himself, especially on a day like today, but Tommy longed for normality. His height always allowed Tommy to jump, and topple over obstacles, so sometimes, Tommy liked to pretend everything was normal again. 

Techno always allowed him to do it - didn’t mean he liked it. 

The shorter man, who was sat across the room from Tommy, started briefly explaining the day’s plan. The route to the school, the time they were meeting Tubbo, the time they would leave - so that they had long enough before the monsters truly came out. 

Wilbur quietly jumped across the back of the couch and landed to the left of Tommy, without a word. 

This time, Techno’s glare was directed at Wilbur, as to say: “You’re setting a bad example.” 

Wilbur could care less. He put an arm around Tommy. 

Tommy smiled as Phil sat on the chair in between Techno, and Wilbur. Tommy sunk into Wilbur’s arm. 

Tommy felt okay. 

**You Will Be Okay.**

Tommy uh - Tommy felt confused. 

He was looking around for his worn-out Adidas tennis shoes, and they were nowhere to be found. 

He was sure that he had left them next to the doorstep when they last went to Tubbo’s house. He was so sure. 

There were not many things that Tommy could be sure of nowadays, but one of them was the fact that he left his shoes to the right of the door step. 

“Are you looking for your shoes?” A monotone voice came out from behind Tommy. 

Tommy quickly spun around - probably too fast because he got a little dizzy, but he leaned against the wall and played it off well enough for Techno to not notice. 

Tommy let out a hum of agreement. 

It still hurt to talk - not as much as it used to, but enough for him to try and conserve his voice. 

Techno looked a little unsure of himself, “I think Wil threw them out? I’m not entirely sure, but I’d check him out.” 

With that Techno turned around, presumably to get his own shoes, and left Tommy to his thoughts. 

Tommy was confused again. 

He shifted on his feet, sitting on the step to help with the dizziness. The next time he looked up Tommy saw a large figure towering over him. 

“Techno’s right.” Wilbur stated bluntly. “I threw them out.” 

“Why?” Tommy rasped, his voice cracking, and deep in ways it shouldn’t be. Tommy didn’t wince, it hurt a lot less than he expected. So, Wlbur’s smile didn’t droop, happy with Tommy’s improvement. 

“They didn’t fit. I saw you walk in them. Wasn’t pretty.” Wilbur held out a hand, ready to help Tommy stand. 

Tommy let out a small laugh, as Wilbur helped him off the floor. Steadying himself before following WIlbur into their shared room. 

“What was your size the last time you checked?” Wilbur asked carefully, heading into a small closet on the backside of their room. 

“11 and a half - I think. Why?” Tommy’s voice gurgled, getting used to being used slightly. 

Wilbur pulled out a well-worn pair of white converse, that Tommy had seen Wil wear many times. Tommy smiled brighter, those were the shoes Wilbur wore when Tommy first met him in person. 

“I think these are a size 13 - might be a tad bit big, but I think we have the same sized feet. You should be the judge though.” Wilbur smiled, stuffing the shoes into Tommy’s arms. 

When Tommy tried them on, sitting on their un-made bed, Tommy grinned. He could wiggle his toes - and feel his feet for that matter, these shoes were a lot fucking better. 

As he walked around he could tell they were a small bit big, but nothing that Tommy wouldn’t grow into in time. 

“Yeah,” Tommy looked up at the brunette. “They fit.” 

Wilbur smiled down at the blonde, ruffling his hair. 

Tommy felt grateful. 

**You Will Be Okay.**

Tommy kicks pebbled along the narrow pathway. 

He hasn’t been outside in so long. 

It was refreshing. 

It was freeing. 

He was bundled up in a crew-neck sweater and a hoodie, yet, he was still shivering. Much like when he was hot, really hot, early this morning, there was not much he could do about it. 

He couldn’t really regulate his body temperature anymore, but he didn’t mind that either. 

Tommy was just happy he could walk. 

This part was easy. Just being himself. 

He joked - even if he used less words. He laughed - even if it was quieter. He punched Wilbur in the arm - even if it was weaker. He made fun of Phil for being old - nothing had changed on that front, Tommy was still half the age of Phil. 

Even if he limped, or favored his left side heavily, he could walk; and he was happy. 

Tommy felt free. 

**You Will Be Okay.**

Somewhere along the walk, maybe 20 or 25 minutes in, Tommy got tired. 

He got really, really tired. 

It was not unusual for Tommy to get tired in the middle of the day. It was part of getting better, sleeping through most of the day. He tended to take a mid-afternoon nap, where he would lie on the couch for an hour or two deep in sleep. Phil, Wilbur, and Techno always switched out, but someone was always sitting with him, waiting for him to wake up. It was nice - really. To have people care so much about him. 

But, no matter how much his pride prevented Tommy from asking someone to help him, to let him rest - someone was ought to notice. 

He had slowed down significantly, cracking jokes less, focusing on walking forward more. His limp got more noticable, and he yawned one or two times. 

Tommy was okay with continuing to suffer - honestly he was. He could walk another 10 or 20 minutes - the time it would take to get to Tubbo’s house, and then the brunette boy would surely notice something off with Tommy. Tubbo would point it out before Tommy had to - Tommy knew that he would.

Yet, about 2 minutes into his thought, his walking was halted by Wilbur. The taller man, who bent down so that Tommy could climb on his back, nodded his head forward as to signal Tommy to get on. 

Tommy let a lazy smile fall over his face, as he climbed on Wilbur’s back, instantly melting into the warmth Wilbur provided. The rhythm of Wilbur’s steps, and the vibrations from Wilbur’s low humming were enough to lure Tommy right to sleep.

Tommy could barely hear Wilbur’s words when he slipped out a “I’ve always got you Toms. Don’t worry.” 

Tommy felt sleepy - but safe. 

**You Will Be Okay.**

Tommy woke up all at once. 

He didn’t think that would ever change. 

His eyes blearily blinked open, as he took note of the trees and houses beside him. 

Tommy could faintly hear Tubbo and Wilbur - and Techno? 

He wasn’t sure who was a part of the conversation, but he relaxed, digging deeper in the warmth that Wilbur provided. 

He freed one of his hands to rub at his eyes tiredly, and he rested his head upon Wilbur’s. 

Wilbur stopped the conversation when he noticed Tommy’s movements. “You awake Toms?” 

A faint hum answered him. 

Wilbur started bouncing up and down, which made Tommy move as well. “You awake now bitch?” 

Tommy laughed wholeheartedly. It was nice to joke around. 

“Hey Tub.” Tommy yawned as he rested his head to the side, atop Wilbur’s head. He made eye contact with Tubbo who was almost a foot shorter than him in the moment. 

“Heh - short bitch.” Tommy muttered quietly to Tubbo. 

Wilbur howled in laughter, Tubbo quietly scowled. 

“Hello to you too Tommy.” Tubbo retorted. 

“Hi.” Tommy smiled cheekily to his best friend. 

Tommy felt overwhelmingly happy. 

**You Will Be Okay.**

As they neared the school building, looking through the large gate out front, both Tommy and Tubbo come to a realization. 

Tommy, who was recently let on his own two feet, after recharging during his short nap, gasped. All three of the men looked at the two teens who stood side-by-side. 

“Tubbo-” Tommy croaked. “Isn’t this?” 

“Yeah.” Tubbo gaped in awe. “This was my school.” 

**You Will Be Okay.**

When Tommy first walked into the school building - he wasn't sure what he expected. 

Maybe SapNap. He expected SapNap to greet them. Tommy knew what SapNap looked like, Tommy knew SapNap's face, SapNap was safe. 

What he wasn't expecting was a tall green-eyed blonde to open the door. 

Sure, Tommy had spent countless hours talking to Dream. He had worked his way up to being 'one of Dream's top 10 best friends'. He had Dream's phone number, and texted him often, and they facetimed once where Dream showed Tommy his room. Sure, he may have been closest to Dream out of the DreamTeam. But he didn't expect Dream to look so familiar. 

When Dream had told Tommy months and months ago that the two looked eerily familiar, Tommy thought the blonde was joking. Because that's what they did, they made jokes. Right? 

But Dream wasn't joking. Tommy was frozen in his place taking in all the features of the elder. 

He had Tommy's same nose, and a similar face shape, and the same ears, and eye shape, and - 

Tommy looked into Dream's eyes. Eyes he had sworn he had seen thousands and thousands of times before. 

Tommy was looking at an older version of himself. Tommy was looking at a photograph on his mantelpiece. 

"Hey, Tommy, you okay?" Dream asked snapping Tommy out of his trance. 

It was only then that the younger blonde noticed all of the eyes on him. 

"Uh - sorry." He rasped, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked at Dream with teary eyes. He laughed breathily, "You look just like my dad Dream." 

"Oh Toms -" Someone had started in the background, Tommy assumed it was Phil. 

But before he could really try and analyze the situation before him, he was being pulled into a comforting hug by the Big Man himself. 

"You really are like my Dad, Dream." Tommy reasoned, nuzzling his head into Dream's shoulder, letting the tears fall down his face. 

Sometimes Tommy felt pain, but that is okay. 

**You Will Be Okay.**

It started as a friendly game of UNO. 

As most games do. 

Tommy, actually sat out the first few games, still tired emotionally, and physically. He was okay though, Tubbo sat next to him, making snarky comments during each round, and trying to make Tommy laugh as hard as he can - without wheezing or coming up short of air, it happened a few times, and the looked Tommy received from Wilbur laced with concern, made Tommy try harder to laugh softer, and make sure he breathed when he felt he needed it - and Tubbo succeeded. 

Tommy couldn't possibly deny that he was happy, because he truly, truly was. 

It was odd - honestly. Watching his two friend groups battle it out in a game of UNO. He never thought he would see the day that Philza Minecraft was beating Dream - but they day was here, and man was it odd. He had to admit, that it was strange watching Technoblade and GeorgeNotFound battle it out, but Tommy wouldn't have it any other way. 

Ofcourse, he was there when things got awkward, he was able to break the ice quickly. It was Tommy's thing, being overly confident and not-at-all awkward. Plus, both of these trio's were some of his best friends whether he admitted that to SapNap's face or not. 

"Uno." George had whispered, looking directly in his opponents eyes. 

"What? How?" Techno had questioned, how was this guy beating him? 

Tommy silently laughed, catching an adoring smile on Wilbur's face. 

"Is this guy cheating?" Phil jokingly suggested. 

"What? Gogy? Never." SapNap drawled. 

All of the men had laughed. Tommy just leaned on Tubbo, feeling his friend's deep breaths every few seconds. Tommy felt happy. 

If these 7 men were his family, he couldn't object. He was happy with the outcome. 

Tommy was really, really, happy. 

**You Will Be Okay.**

It was nearly sunset out, and Tommy knew that he would have to leave the DreamTeam soon. He closed his eyes for a brief moment. 

He wanted to remember George’s bright laugh, and Dream’s green eyes for a second longer. He wanted to remember the way Phil threw his arm around SapNap, or the way Dream leaned into Technoblade for a moment. He wanted to remember SapNap’s loud chants, or the way Wilbur leaned into Tommy when they were all on the make-shift couch together. He wanted to remember easy laughter, and Tubbo’s brilliant smile for days. 

He wanted to remember this single moment forever. 

“You okay, Big T?” Tubbo shyly asked, his head below Tommy’s as they all laid on the ‘couch’ together.

“Yeah,” Tommy mumbled into the short brunette hair. “Just want to remember.” 

Tommy felt nostalgic, and that’s okay too. 

**You Will Be Okay.**

“See you soon, Big D!” Tommy received a hair ruffle for the nickname, as Wilbur led Tommy outside with an arm around his shoulders. 

The smile etched on his face would stay for hours, if not days. His eyes glimmering with smile lines, and happiness from mere minutes ago. 

He huffed, let out a breathy laugh, and continued forward, thinking of the past day’s events. 

As he listened to Tubbo rant about what ‘Fundy The Fox’ got up to the last week, Tommy knew one thing, that he hadn’t been sure of for the past year in his life. 

Suddenly everything seemed so stable, and concrete. 

The smile rests on his face permanently, _everything would be okay_. 

**Tommy felt content.**

****

****

**And he knew, in his heart, that within these men, his best friends, his brothers, _this is home._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey - 
> 
> I would like to thank each one of you personally for sticking along with the ride. I know for the last few chapters, I really spaced them out and focused on writing other things, but I want you guys to know that you are the reason I kept writing. This whole story has been such an experience, and I really learnt how I wanted to write from it, and I don't know, I just feel like I owe you guys a lot. 
> 
> Anyways, as my last goodbye, I want to say I had a really, really good time writing each and every chapter. Even if I procrastinated or hated the chapter I wrote, it's the journey along the way. I hope you guys are all doing well :)
> 
> If you have any final thoughts, or analysis's I would love to hear them. My favorite thing in the world is to read your comments. 
> 
> So, for a final farewell on this story, I really hope you guys enjoyed the ride :))
> 
> See you later! :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [at ease](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27564463) by [qar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/qar/pseuds/qar)




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